By C.L. Bledsoe
Before the snow came, you picked
a sweater from my closet,
slipped it on without a word.
I knew it would replace me— 262 more words
Before you get too far into this poem, I wanted to pre-emptively say: this is an old poem. I think about two months old. Despite the frustration I express in this particular poem, my partner is actually wonderful and this poem doesn’t include the conversation we had later on the night of that particular day in which he did his best to listen to me explain my mindset and understand my experience. 896 more words