Smell Memories Suck

I oughta throw his shit out so that I don't think about him.

An eviction from the courts of the powers vested in me, by the State of My Mind.

His smell disgusts me. What with his cheap colognes and after shaves.

I don't look him eye to eye anymore.

The respect has been gone since the first time the line was crossed - all those years ago...

...the morning of her wedding.

Every Christmas I am reminded.

Every time I see you. Or smell you. I become that little dude I was as a child.

Back when I was being sexually abused.

Raped and the Incest. Incest.

There is something about the smell of a person that becomes locked into the nose hairs of life.

Yes. I remember how each and every and all of those perpetrating bastards smelled.

I could be walking at the store with the big red dot or where shopping is a pleasure - catch a sniff - and I'm back in my lil' dude jeans. Remember who, when and how.

How the fuck do you wash that out of the sinus? A sinus drain-o!

Smell memories suck sometimes.