One Month Later

All I wanted was the smell of him off of me.
Scrubbing lavender scented soap on my blemished skin,
Petals of the loofa falling on the sterile tile floor.

All I wanted was the smell of him away from me.
Abrupt and gentle wrapped into his leftover sweater,
Laying crumpled in my "New Car" scented glove box.

All I wanted was the smell of him to stop haunting me.
Lukewarm soy lattes with a double shot in generic coffee shops,
Remnants scattered around the maple table in the corner.

All I wanted was to forget the smell of him.
Warm embers crackling, tucked under itchy grandma-made wool blankets,
Soft cheek kisses and the all too distinct metallic scent of his oxygen tank.