Ode to an Old Grey Sweatshirt

I.

Dear you,
  Do you remember winters in Tallahassee-
more Georgia than Florida-I slid into you perfectly?
You were there as I became someone I was barely aware I was becoming.

II.

Dear you,
   I think sometimes now, I search for you
in the sleeves and pockets of others.
Test their weight on my shoulders to see if it feels the same--
it hasn't yet.

III.

Dear you,
   It's funny, I can see a blurry panorama of our years together;
never solid on the memory of when we first met, but
I can tell you distinctly how we parted:

A crisp November night, I was jetlagged and bedraggled, clutching
Logan struggling against my lap.
I felt his last breath through your threadbare length
and knew that moment was imprinted in you
knew, I'd never be comforted by you again.

The next afternoon we covered his body with you, a shroud
buried you both and hoped
you gave him half the comfort you always gave me.

Dream

Sometimes,
I dream

about her

PAD 2016 16

Is it what you believe
or what believes in you?

PAD 2016 15

Late nights and early mornings
my sleep cycle is concentric
a spiral that shrinks into oblivion.

PAD 2016 14

Crashing again
I sleep now with eyes wide open.

PAD 2016 13

We loose our minds daily
trying to adjust our outlines to molds
boundless is how we're meant to be.

PAD2016 11

Because he is a man
I had to explain what it is to be a woman
how we worry about our bodies more
how we dissect the looks we receive in public places
package them, the worse gifts
we give ourselves over and over again

PAD2016 10

I am anxiety, Twitter fingers and one status update from being too exposed.

PAD 2016 9

It is easy
to allow a stranger to take my hand
trace lines in my palm that I have played with for years
for them to say "see,
we are all the same; deep lines:
we have lived, are living..."

It is easy and not frightening
how simple it is that we might be the same.

PAD 2016 8

I am all anticipation
it's how I know this is home.