I'd rather hide in my sweater than face the world today, and I daren't try to hide my yawns and my sullen, sunken face, bare to the world that I am broken and sad today.
I want to be asleep, where I have a chance of waking up and this being gone. But I cannot do that, not yet, I must fight and live to die another day. How somber.
Tomorrow. I want tomorrow, where I can sleep and dream and beg for a life more than my own, to beg for some magic that will magic away these feelings of sorrow and unworthiness. I just want to be better.
At least my sweater keeps my cold heart warm.
She's one of those girls
He said
One who wears a lot of beads
Beads that stretch to her elbow
And with one look
The look of guilt
Shame
Knowing
He knew
He knew the look on my face
He knew I was like the girl with beads
Panic washed over his ghostly face
Hurt clouded his eyes
Pulling up my sweater sleeve
He saw nothing
A sigh of relief escaped his lips
But he did not realize
..He lifted the wrong sweater sleeve
Old and stained,
ragged and worn,
with holes and even
unraveled and torn.
Love is like your favorite sweater,
well used and seen all kinds of weather.
After a few years
and several loose threads,
there may be holes that need mending.
Don't get too worried my dear,
as long as the time that you're spending
is carefully piecing the threads back together.
Love is like your favorite sweater.
Keep dreaming. With love IKBKG.
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