The days are starting to smell cold,
just barely,
like the girl who wears too much purfume
that walked past a minute ago, leaving her scent behind.
And my house feels your bruise,
but like a bruise you will fade
when your toothbrush leaves
and I can't smell you on my clothes anymore.
Soon I won't even see the purplish yellow tinge
and my lips will have forgotten
what your kiss tasted like.
just barely,
like the girl who wears too much purfume
that walked past a minute ago, leaving her scent behind.
And my house feels your bruise,
but like a bruise you will fade
when your toothbrush leaves
and I can't smell you on my clothes anymore.
Soon I won't even see the purplish yellow tinge
and my lips will have forgotten
what your kiss tasted like.
![This print feels even more relevant today. We all joke about the dumpster fire of [insert year here], but the important message of this image to me is that *we persist* through the horrors. We stand, we fight— maybe for ourselves, maybe for oth](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/574dddd6d51cd4bc35c1609a/1730935170369-03GPKQ5NF73VAE65RHO6/image-asset.jpeg)
