She finally made her grand appearance
placed on my chest where she forever stayed
In all the chaos and all the madness
Me and her, together we preciously layed
I rubbed my nose on her full set of hair
And from that moment on, she was my shrine
The scent of her hair, my new sacred drug
Powerful and profound, lovingly divine
Her beautiful scent gave me strength I never knew
It calmed me, it cured me, it encouraged my soul
Her mystical scent catches me before the fall
A motherly force that is brighter than gold
It still smells the same as that first day
Locks only for a mother to smell, to heal from, to adore
She offers her gift with grace and smiles
like summer rain and fresh roses, a daughters love
About the Creator
Georgia Om
Georgia has been writing her whole life and publishing personal and fictional stories for several years now. New to vocal.media and enjoying the writing challenges.
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Self Help: Grifters' Gospel
On Self-Help, Snake Oil, and the Illusion of Change Psychology professionals and students can be imagined on two opposite sides of a line called self-help books: likely a larger group opposes pop-science and step-by-step manuals filled with talk of success, journaling, and not giving a f**k; others love them, but they aren’t many.
By Avocado Nunzella BSc (Psych) -- M.A.P 6 days ago in BookClub
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