a misty fog of lavender

I can think of a handful of colors that you can smell...

marigold yellow

mint green

eggplant purple

rhubarb

lavendar.

delicious.

...

not only can you smell them

you can taste them

...

The barista plays the latte machine like an organist on Sunday morning.

All skill and little hesitation; pure instinct.

Well versed in the hisses and steam; a translator of taste.

"What'll it be?"

My usual, my classic, my hometown favorite:

Lavendar tea latte with oat milk.

"The oat milk frothes up perfectly"

She had said to me once with a wink.

"Just a suggestion"

Cradling the warm warm mug and breathing in the bubbly purple bliss.

the silky scent of lavendar

that lulls me to sleep.

that comforts me.

that wraps me up and tucks me in.

In a warm mug in my hand.

I'm a baby, if I drink too quickly I'll burn my lip.

My lukewarm lavendar latte, just how I like it.

Close your eyes as you drink it and try not to dream.

...

Lavendar, a pretty purple, light as a feather.

Lavendar, you can pick it in the yard or pick it up at CVS.

Lotions, face mists, bath bombs, laundry detergent.

The cleanest, calmest smell.

The only smell that could get me to sleep.

...

Junior high. Four foot eleven.

Breakups over text, Simple Plan blasting through my CD player.

"I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare"

Puberty rears it's ugly head as Aeropostale reigns supreme.

Moving. New home. New backyard.

My dog can't relax; Home Smells Different.

Still there is solace in the basement.

The washing machine, keeping time. Swish, swish, swish.

"Get that load out of the dryer, Emma"

And there it is.

The lavendar dryer sheets have done it again.

I inhale the sacred scent and wrap myself in the warm, fresh sheets.

My dog curls up at my feet.

Home smells like home again.

...

Anxiety, what is it?

Excitement? Dread? Astral projection?

Anxiety, what does it feel like?

Teeth chattering like radio static.

I just thought I was cold.

I wrapped myself in my winter coat and I still couldn't stop shivering.

Shit-pantsing fear, over what?

Over what-about-isms? Over what if's?

The tape repeats and the record flips to side B,

No scratches, no skips,

The same worries, the same fears,

the same the same the same

over and over and over again.

And I can't stop it.

I'm only 13 and I can't stop it.

Nothing stops it.

...

I lie and bed and wait to sleep.

No amount of dragon breaths or distractions could pull me under.

Count the shadows on the wall,

Light a candle and stare at the flame,

meditate.

Only then do I find quiet,

Only then do I catch my standard four hours of sleep.

The candle did me in.

Check the label...

Bath and Body Works: Lavendar & Cedarwood.

...

My eyes trace the droplets the pillow spray leaves behind.

A souviener from my friend who went to France, pure lavendar.

When the sprayhead goes dry, Bath and Body Works Sleep Spray says hello

And then my favorite lotion in the entire world.

Sleepy by Lush

(the y is very important).

The scent engulfs me.

...

They remind me of a time when all I wanted was sleep, was rest.

When rest was out of the question, at least there was the smell of it.

...

Another empty mug

If I were drinking beer you'd call it a fallen soldier.

An empty latte is just an empty latte.

But I am not empty. Far from it.

Sweet lavendar, smooth on my tongue and pooling in the dregs of my mug.

I take one last sip and let the warmth seep into my bones.

Tip for the barista, then a long walk home.

I'm due for a nap.