Monday, December 20, 2010

you smell like whore.

my mother got given perfume as a Christmas present, without thinking and looking at the bottle; i let her spray some on me. instantly after i smelt it i could feel my breakfast coming back up my throat; it's your perfume, the perfume you always brought for yourself, and sometimes let me where it as-well. the smell made all of our memories come back, the good memories; the memories i don't want to remember, because i want to forget i ever met you. and now; until that bottle is empty i'm going to despise the smell of my mum.

No comments:

Post a Comment