Leah Reece

The Unneeded Sweatshirt

Dark, but the unseen inside is
soft and warm,
quiet, not making a statement
yet somehow different from the rest.

Lately you seem unsure,
but maybe it’s for the best.
Now your inanimate figure is wedged into
the crevice near the closet,
a way to be safe.

Your protection from the light
Nantucket breeze was gone this summer.
Remember, it was then that the seams began ripping
and cold. Air was exposed to the delicate skin,
the skin that was so comfortable in your sleeves?
Goose bumps are not easy to ignore.

You fell apart,
now exposed to the world,
alone.
The hemming was destroyed and noticeable holes
now replaced the minor ones which I thought
no one was able to see.

The once common comfort was gone
and the warmth no longer came.
Why did I continue to wear you?

You’ll always be here, but you’ll never fit like
you used to.
Sometimes I think
that maybe you could be sewn back together.
The delicate skin has become accustomed to the cold.
I don’t need you anymore.




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2012 EDITION]


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