The familiar smell of tears. It makes all the moments of grief one. crying for things that don’t matter. that don’t matter once the tears are gone. but the smell of tears lingers for a while. makes me dream of tears to come, of all the moments i’ve cried and didn’t know why, the helpless feeling that the tears of tomorrow bring, the distant murmurs and voices of the moments to come, they get fuzzier when i cry and dissappear when i don’t, but just the few moments the smell lasts, it become clear, it reflects my life, what i’ve lived and what is to come. it makes no promises, but it intimidates me, with its conviction, its strength of knowing what the future holds, and not letting me see it for more than a few moments. the familiar smell of tears.
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