Grief Scents
My room smells like death and urine
So do my bedsheets
But I don't want to clean his cage
And I don't want to ride the bedsheets
These are the last scents I have
Against what becomes memories
Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741