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basil Dec 2021
we both got sweatshirts for christmas
i hope we can trade sometime
i have been diagnosed with simp

Jeanmarie Mar 2021
I painted my room the hue of blue
For a reason
You see, blue reminds me of the beach
Which reminds me of hot summer days
And cold summer nights
Which reminds me of when you lent me your sweatshirt
Which wasn’t blue, but when I wore it I swear it radiated that hue
It’s scary having deep feelings for someone
But the radiance of blue was so vibrant
It was easy to push my fears aside
Instead I was filled with calmness, peace, security, and feelings of content  
I was left the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
I painted my room the hue of blue
To remind me what I want to strive to feel
Each day of my life
I’m open to any thoughts, suggestions, or critiques :)
estie wari Oct 2020
i walked out the cafe with the usual pride in my stride
as a young lady, portraying my vigor.
they knew me for the scornful maiden i was,
for my heart was a cold place.
had i not been desired by the gentlemen since young,
my soul would've probably known better.

but as the breeze outside the diner hit my petite build,
i saw him with his cold brew contrasting the warm weather.
i recognized the university cardigan,
surely must he be brilliant.
what happened that moment,
i remember it all well for an aphant.

now, he strode into the cafe.
my eyes hunted for the sight of his curly hair,
for i couldn't ever get enough.
the curiosity rose in me
as i took a few steps towards the cafe.

then i knew, i wasn't that cold afterall.
for now; i yearned for his slight fingers locking into mine.
i needed the brown eyes gazing into mine.
i wanted the soft lips pecking onto mine.
or maybe;
just lay on his chest in his university sweatshirt.
What do I do these days?
As I sway in a romantic way
I hear the yellow flower turn
I listen to the woods of the swamps slightly forlorn
The staircase points downward, I am lost
When the cars wheel by the pondering eyed strangers
The shores of oceans don't have legs
A soul hollow as the kind blue flower and fruit
Blossoms in the summer-youth which rots the skin to the shin, losing it's rind

It's a surprise to see
In your ashen coil under a sycamore tree
Where you have lost your lonely virility
Where is your heart these days, my child?
Lost in the vigil of the votive offerings of sunflowers
Till the next time
We will see as the tepid wind swells and boils
The effervescent water coolly blows into my eyes
As I sway in the straits of hasty affairs filmed and tinted in romantic lies, my faithful violet
I miss the faith of some of my readers. They loved me with a wholesome love. It was faithful and torrid at times. But, never uncouth and indecent. I regret dating someone on this platform.
Your sweatshirt smells like you
My bedsheets smelled like you
My blanket smelled like you
You know that I like you <3

Your ring reminds me of you
Your sweatshirt obviously reminds me of you
Some songs remind me of you
Plenty of things remind me of you <3

From green to blue,
It reminds me of you
I hope my sweatshirt
Reminds you of me, too <3
For: Jenny Thoma
I love you *****
I’m smiling in your arms
I happily sink into you
You’re really comfy,
And ridiculously soft
Maybe I’ll just sleep here,
In your sweatshirt’s arms
For: Jenny Thoma
Jaxey Aug 2019
I'm sorry I stole your sweatshirt
I was aiming for your heart
This was the closest I could get
Without completely falling apart
I'm sorry
Philomena Mar 2019
First time I wore it
Crying on the way home violated and confused
I suppose you can't rush a good time

It was soft, and it help me better than anything else
Helped my hide my body
And my scars

Kept me warm in the cold
And sheltered me in the night
Kept my alive

It was with me though breakups
And sneak-outs
Not to mention every long night in-between

It brought me to college
Helped me escape the pain
But it's gone now

It gets to help someone else though their pain
It gets to help a new life
Find a new home
Lord knows why I write anything at all. I used to have a grey hoodie so yea.
Aaryn Oct 2018
I have worn the same clothes three days in a row
the same filth
that ingrains onto my skin
and scratches at my heart
slices through everything

It is big enough to cover the ugly mess that is my body
And my arms encase my chest
when I'm not wearing it
Although I know everyone notices
It's not that I can't afford clothes
Its that my mind can't accept them

I have one shirt
It covers my scars
It covers my chest
the one I want to cut off
just to feel like me
it covers my stomach
the one that aches from being empty sometimes
then hurts from being stuffed full

I want to wear different clothes
I don't want to be looked at the way I am
but in the end
This sweatshirt can feel like my only friend

Yes, it is crusted over with blood
on the inside of the left sleeve
but only because
it is making sure I don't bleed out

Yes, maybe it makes me look bigger than I am
but then after a binge
nobody notices the bloating
because the sweatshirt can hide anything

I don't know
where the metaphor ends
and reality begins anymore
Some of this is literal and some metaphorical... i'm very confused with this one
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