I still have his favorite
hooded sweatshirt.
I was meant to give it back
when I went to get my things.
But I couldn’t hand it over.
I left it unspoken in the
backseat of my car that day.
It’s all I have left.
The only thing that feels
like him.

I drove home from work
in tears tonight
and I saw that hoodie in my room
when I came in the door.

I held it tight against me
and sobbed into it.
It shouldn’t be here though.
Because neither is he.