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

THE TITLE OF THIS POEM IS AT THE END.

I feel a fever coming on
Intense heat from my forehead
I'm sweating even though
it's 20 degrees outside
My hands are clammy
My skin is pricked
by a million needles
I want to throw up
I can barely stand
My stomach hurts,
and I feel cold and hot
I'm shaking, trembling
all over.
I can barely move
my lips to speak.
I'm dizzy.
Every bone in my body
aches with the pain
of a million paper cuts.
My heart beats irregularly
slow, fast, slow, fast
I think I might faint.


I went to the doctor.

Turns out,
there's no medicine
for lovesickness.