Your jacket
Smells like you
I've carried it everywhere with me
All weekend
Kept it by my side
In my hands
Or on me
The scent of you
Lingers
Helps me sleep
It's his jacket
I have to give it back soon
By the time I give it back
It will smell like me
His jacket

Sleeping in your jacket tonight

It's nice to think of myself going to sleep with your smell here beside me

It's nice to think of your arms wrapped around me, warming me up from the inside out

You won't ever be here with me, you won't ever lean over and whisper good morning to me, but you can always be here by giving me the strength I need to face tomorrow, and the strength to close my eyes

Thank you, for keeping me safe at night

You gave me your jacket on a cold day
When you saw how I was shivering and miserable
"Take this"
And you smiled as you handed me your dark grey jacket

I wore it
And instantly felt the warmth
Not only from the jacket
But from the kindness you showed someone like me

I still have the jacket
Lying to you saying, "I left it at home again"
You still tell me that it's okay for me to keep it
And I dunno why but I always tell you that I'll bring it the next time

I guess I still want to keep the jacket
I wear it when I feel lonely or sad
But also want your scent on it again
The smell of you and your favourite deodorant... it comforts me for some reason

I'm giving it back to you tomorrow
So you can wear it again
And then I'll find a way to trick you
Into giving it back to me

He gave me his
jacket
and it smelled like
him and smoke
and I knew why
but I wore it anyway.

The day he
disappeared
it was cold outside so
I wore his jacket
and
wiped my nose on the sleeves.

We got the call from the
psych ward
three days later and I couldn't
see him
or
hold him
so I buried my face in his jacket
even though it smelled like smoke
and I knew why.

I kept it
stuffed in the corner between
the wall and my bed
so on the nights when I
missed him too much to sleep
I could wrap myself in it
even though
it didn't smell like him anymore.

When he came back
a month later
and I saw him in
a crowded hallway
he looked at me and
smiled
when he noticed I was wearing
his jacket
and he
hugged me
so it smelled like him again.

I still
wear his jacket
when I can't sleep at night.

The crickets.
The summer warmth that gives you the shiver of fall.
The lights of this city.
The sky is eternity.
The trees.
The bench in the park where i put my head to rest.
Memories of winter, they pass so hollow, just like waves and thirsty souls.
You.
In my head.
The jacket.
That eternal jacket.
I live one hundred times, it is always like the first time.
A cigarette.
A beer in the hand.
Memories of my friends.
All the good times.
Everything is this moment.
This moment is everything.
I'm infinite.
How I live, it's a legend.
The world won't know, just the hearts that I've touched.  
Last day of summer, just a myth.
Inside it feels more real and alive then ever before.
It's the best day of all.

Once there was a boy and his jacket, who made his devils thirsty.
Oh, how beautiful he was.
Oh the tears he cried were lust.

You know you're still in love
When you have your jacket
And the last person that wore it was them
So you smell it,
With every breath you take
You cry
For some odd reason,
And you don't want to ever
wear it again,
Never zip it up again.
Because the last person that did it
Was them.
And it feels like you still have
A tiny part of them with you.

she was wearing soft red lips
and blue eyes as deep as the ocean
and a shirt that read “THIS WILL DESTROY YOU”
and you should’ve known then but it was already too late
too late
too late
and you were already moving, already in motion
she made her darkness shine like gold.    

she was wrapped in silk and satin
that would have burned you if you tried to touch
and she was sitting by a window
waiting for you.
she wanted to keep her sadness close
and her vastness open.
she didn’t understand what it meant to be the moon
and you should’ve known then but it was already too late
and you were already moving.
she was a wolf, she said
and her knowledge could eat you
alive.
you, on the other hand
have always been a deer.

                        she spoke with a voice of lush and luxury
and wore her jacket over her shoulders
on the first day of spring.
her enigma was thrilling
and she scared you
almost to death
but not enough to make you leave.
she had hands of ice
and the breath of heartbreak.
she still remembered how to laugh
however cynical.
she was just as lost and dismembered as anyone else
but knew how to hide it
among sharpened knives
and glasses of red wine.
she loved the thought of drowning
but yearned to be saved
and asked you for help.
she let you in
but she was a self-proclaimed goddess
with secrets deeper
than your lungs.
she was water
and you have always been air
and you should’ve known then but it was already too late
and you were already moving.
the whole time you moved within one word
and that word carried you to places she never could:
chance.
she tried to warn you
she knew she couldn’t be the person you loved
yet somehow you still did
somehow you still did
(she) did still you, somehow
somehow you still did.
it was already too late
late too, already, was it?
it was already too late.
before you even met her
before you even saw her turn around in that coffee shop
before her smile
before her accent reached your ears
before your arms touched
before she read her writing to you
before she opened
before she placed her hand on your back
before you watched her walk away down the dark city street for the first and last time
before you met the body behind the screen, you did
you loved the words.