Yellow

“Yellow” I pump the liquid soap in the bathroom How Sickeningly sweet it is and although now it’s gone I will carry it with me as I drift off….. Yellow is the smell of an old woman's room Plastic flowers everywhere, windows shut tight It lays like a fog as a reminder of whats to come Death lingers In the funeral parlour Clinging to the heavy velvet drapes settled in corners like a blanket Smothering me Yellow roses everywhere in the air and painted on the walls Nothing moves here time stops Yellow sun filters through darkened blinds Hides the inevitable in contrast to the rotting flesh propped up with formaldehyde in crisp and crinkle fabrics devoid of all life Yellow flower petals edged in brown drop slowly onto tables Even sound doesn’t live here This is where the dead say their last goodbyes And the living get stuck in rose-scented memories dancing on the wall In the haze of Yellow and the inescapable scent of roses The incongruity of the two worlds meet In the thick silence Sticky like yellow syrup I am reminded that He is nowhere anymore But I will take that scent That feeling with me Forevermore