Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2015
I think it's really sad
How a simple sweater
Could show me more emotion
Than you ever did.

An inanimate object. . . .
You might as well tell me
That I'm not good enough for you.
You already do a great job showing me.

I struggle to make you happy.
I get out of my own comfort zone for you.
And your response was no more than a couple words.
A couple words..
And NONE of these WORDSΒ Β ever expressed ANY appreciation.
doesn't even seem like you cared about how I felt...

I poured my feelings onto paper for you.
I really really tried to help you understand me.
I only stopped when you did.

One moment, we'reΒ Β both happy, and I'd be smiling.
I actually tried, too.
I did...
Next thing I know, I'm walking home in the cold
With a sweater that isn't mine
keeping me company.

I shiver as the harsh cold wind blows.
I seem to lose the fight between the tears I tried to hold back.
They freeze halfway down my face.
This sweater .. helps me.
It wipes my tears away.
It hugs me, gently caressing my face.

It gives me a sense of warmth and comfort.
But... it isn't mine
My cold face is embraced with warmth.
As I walk, the tears begin to flow again.
I stop for a moment, trying to recollect air that seems so utterly impossible to accomplish at the moment.

The sweater silences my soft sobs.
This sweater.. cares about me.
It shows me that it cares. . .

Now, I wonder why it's so hard for you to do the same.
If I can receive it from a sweater, why can't I receive it from the warmth of flesh and blood?

The sweater is gone now.
And so are **you.
Another bad breakup.
You gotta admit that those are always something to write about.
Written by
MAD  F/America
     MAD, Antonio and Samuel Hesed
Please log in to view and add comments on poems