Dec 11

Petrichor

I never really liked cologne.
Perfumes are included.
Any strong scents really.
Maybe it was the allergies
or the fact that the allergies made it
so I couldn't breathe through my nose.
Maybe I was allergic to it all
and that's why my eyes watered
and I never liked how I choked on its clouds.

I like wafting scents.
Like my mother's fresh baked cookies,
or the lilacs at school.
Freshly mowed grass,
but I'm allergic to that too
and "scentless" shampoo.
They're not as overpowering,
and there's something more natural,
something more comfortable and familiar,
and I find myself getting back to those scents.

I've always loved the smell of rain.
The wet asphalt,
the crisp chlorophyll scents.
Petrichor.
I always liked that word.
It's why I liked the grey skies
and the looming clouds
because maybe the rain would come again
and I could smell the petrichor
and watch the sun poke its bright grin
through the grey
and watch the world return to color.

It's strange
because you smell like that.
I don't have to wait for my rain anymore.