The painted midnight sky over a starry night houses the devestatingly hopeful dreams of a self-proclaimed romantic.

She could feel the chill of the night linger on her skin, and it stung.

She heard their song, and her ears bled.

Tried to play it on the piano, but with each press of a key, another tear blurred her vision.

She remembered the way he smelled,

And it hurt.

Like campfires.

Like the burning embers of a campfire overcrowding the nostrils.

When she inhaled, her nose burst into flames.

Smelled like home.

But now when she smelled campfires,

He was only a memory.