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My Smell This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

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I suppose I must smell a little like
The toxic after-taste
Of all my wasted dreams
And a little like
The strawberry lip-gloss
I try to hide them in.

I suppose I must smell a little like
The acid, boiled-out sweat
Of all my ballet classes
And a little like
The satin pink trappings
I still cling tightly to.

I suppose I must smell a little like
The slick, harsh weight
Of all my smirk and sarcasm
And a little like
The silent, crushing tears
I try to keep within.



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Extraterrestrial said...
today at 4:21 am:
Oooh, this is brilliant. Great use of repetition (I love repetition -- common but very effective technique) and imagery leading up to the final stanza. Very well-written!
 
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