The Sweatshirt


United States
39° 43' 0.9804" N, 84° 10' 11.6076" W

The silence of the room is not overwhelming,
It is peaceful,
The perfect template for imagination and dreaming.
No noise disrupts trains of thought
No whisper breaks through the wall of the mind.

The darkness is not unnerving,
It is only emptiness
Not flourished and flamboyant
But rich and full.

I lie in my bed
With nothing but myself
And his sweatshirt.

I close my eyes willingly,
Even though it doesn’t make the darkness any darker
Or the silence even quieter.
It just makes the imagination clearer.

I pull your sweatshirt close
Searching the folds for a pocket of your scent.
Finally, I find it-
The essence of a summer of bliss
The remnants of curling up by a fire
A reminder of the safety of your arms

Arms that kept me safe…
But couldn’t do the same for you.

I hear your voice
But I know you are not near
The two week old voicemail cannot bring me the sparkle in your eyes
When you tell me you love me.

I know if I open my eyes
And interrupt my dreams with a light
I could see your face
But the hug trapped underneath the glass cannot comfort me with your hand
When you caress my head.

As I fall into sleep
And let the dark of night swallow me
Allow the swirls of hope and love and memories to enter my mind
I sense your presence
But my dreams will fade when I awaken
So I sleep
Because when I wake up,
You will still be gone.

The silence couldn’t save you
The darkness couldn’t save you
I couldn’t save you.

I bury my head in your sweatshirt
And wish it was you.



Just a poem of mine that means a lot, and think can relate to those who miss those who are no longer with us.

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