To this day I still remember the smell of his jacket,
it didn’t smell like cologne it was just his smell.
That smell made my nose sting, that smell made me uneasy.
His smell is not rare, his smell is shared with others, his smell brings death.
I can remember hugging him and smelling that smoky stench,
wishing every time not to catch it in my scent.
Now he’s gone, that smell took him away from me.
It burned him from the inside out, and left me nothing.
But the smell lives on; I smell it often, actually everywhere.
It mocks me, it mocks all of us.
Someday maybe someday, the smell will be perished,
that way others will never have to remember that smell,
the smell that kills.