Sometimes I get a whiff of a scent,
Like a warm embrace, it envelopes me,
It takes me back to the time we spent,
When we were both happy and carefree.
Then on the radio they play that song,
But instead of the singer its your voice,
I remember hearing you sing along,
The memories make me rejoice.
It could be a smell, a sound or a sight,
That triggers memories of you and sets my heart alight,
With a longing so strong to be with you again;
To lose the one you love, is to live in pain.
———————-
About the Creator
Zakiya
Single mom of one incredible boy, nomadic soul currently tied to London, finding my way back to life after being lost in divorce & depressive times. Learning to love living & writing again.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
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