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Old Perfume

The power of perfume 
Secrets trapped in cheap glass bottles
The air is misty as I enter the room
Memories climb through my nose into my heart
How weak the soul is!
Vulnerable, protected by skin
But through the nose, through the mouth, through sad eyes
The haunting perfume can get in
This perfume, the one with the heart shaped glass
Reminds me of the days when I shopped as I skipped class
And if I close my eyes just tight enough
And if the circumstances are right enough
I can sniff the love perfume like a drug
That takes me right back to a day when I was a different me
Recollecting past memories of ourselves
We refer to ourselves in third person
That girl, that one who wore this perfume with the long blonde hair flowing down her back
Is not the girl I see today, with a hairdo that I would never have the courage to flaunt
Back when I drowned myself in the love perfume
Like a blooming, honey scented flower
Waiting for worker bees to devour me
Stop it, old perfume, I need to throw you away
I do not want to be transported back from this day
I am too young for this sort of nostalgia
I am too weak for these existential fantasies
I am too old to harbour teenage angst
Omnia vanitas vanitatum!
All perfume will run bone dry
No matter how many scents I buy
But before the perfume empties itself to the last
The perfume will already be thrown away
This is the only way these useless, sweet-scented memories
Will cease to consume my mind
My body will reject this old perfume
I am allergic to my regrets
They are a rash on my arms
A bullet hole in my spirit
No, there is no point to wearing old perfume


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