The old sweater I hadn't worn in awhile –

I snuggle into it and feel right

in its warmth and comfort.

I know I should forget about it.

I know I should let it go.

It's not my color.

It's not my size.

I can't see myself wearing it in public.

But when I put it on

and feel its coziness envelope me in

stupid sentiment,

and I breath in its familiar smell,

I don't see how I could ever give it away.

I don't see how

it could belong to anyone else

but me.