Tag: grief
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Orange
I found a bar of soap that smelled of her. It teleported me from the Whole Foods produce section to getting ready in her bathroom. Pink shag carpet, fuzzy grass around my ankles. A boot made of heavy metal in the corner. I used to imagine crawling inside of it when I was younger. “Come…
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Silver
My parent’s hair is graying. I see thin silver strands hanging from their roots. My dad has a silver beard, I see him for the first time in a year and it startles me as it brushes against my cheek. When did he grow older? I feel my chest tighten at his new wrinkles, the…
treatswords 