in my closet,
I have a torn jacket
two holes in its pocket
a rip in its hood, and
a broken zipper
patches, and stickers
stains of liquor
from when i drinked
so that I wouldn't miss her
I haven't thrown it
it's precious, for some reason
to throw it away
would, to my heart, be treason
I wore it when we met
on that cold autumn night
when the freezing wind swept
the leaves to our left and right
a scene from a movie
or a novel, perhaps
I look back and I tremble
I faint, I collapse
my mind goes numb
stuck in the memory
of that autumn night of fate
I gained myself, but I lost myself
when I put my jacket in her hands
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 6:35 AM UTC
in my closet,
I have a torn jacket
two holes in its pocket
a rip in its hood, and
a broken zipper
patches, and stickers
stains of liquor
from when i drinked
so that I wouldn't miss her
I haven't thrown it
it's precious, for some reason
to throw it away
would, to my heart, be treason
I wore it when we met
on that cold autumn night
when the freezing wind swept
the leaves to our left and right
a scene from a movie
or a novel, perhaps
I look back and I tremble
I faint, I collapse
my mind goes numb
stuck in the memory
of that autumn night of fate
I gained myself, but I lost myself
when I put my jacket in her hands