As the doors of my past open, the smell strikes right at my heart. It hadn't changed. It has been over two years, and still that precious aroma stays the same. It is the smell of love that was lost. A life that was lost, or maybe had never been. This smell that once made me feel so at home now it brings agonizing loneliness. It's faded that scent I treasure, once so strong. Now terribly weak to the point that not even engulfing myself in it makes it last.
Two years... you may have left me, but I know now that it wasn't your choice. Closing my eyes I take it in again, the pain of losing you. Still I feel your very being with me as your memory rushes in through my nose and lingers in my lungs.
This smell is the one thing that I never want to forget, yet eats away at my very soul and torments my scarred heart. Lingering in what is left of you, I close my eye take a deep breath, willingly losing myself. The darkness settles over me. A constant pain deep in my heart. I feel a lone tear slide its way down my cheek, as your aroma paints a picture in my head that shrouds my reality. Smoke, spices, and everything that made you what you are... or rather were.
None of it lasts. The smell of your cooking changes to gunpowder and death. The sharpness of the spices don't seep out as strong as they should, masked by a fog of blood and medical herbs. My daydreams twist themselves into nightmares, and I see you laying there holding my hand as your scent fades. My eye closes tight against that sight as I take another deep breath, but I cannot escape the memory of you watching me as you faded too. Blood finally overpowers your natural smell of ocean-water and spices. I saw you mouth the words that I always wanted to say, but I cannot bear to see this anymore.
This is too much, too quick, and even someone as strong as me can't shoulder this pain. I need to keep it away, keep it down, bury it forever with you. Shaking my head, I drove your memory from my lungs and let go of it all; your smile and your blood.
When I die I know your scent will be in my first breath beyond, but now as I walk away I feel lighter. As long as I run from it all I won't have to face my own heartache again. This painful incense, the smell of love, of happiness, this scent that is too much to bear was the fragrance of a love that could never be.
"Zoro, I will always love you, my moss head."
I hope you all like this, it was really my first piece that I have ever written. I had to give it some tlc but it is where I want it. Please read and review. Thank you xoxoxo