I'm in the trash. The last time I was on her...well, I was stuffed inside a locker with books. She was electric. I'm red, white, and blue. She switched me for a plain black hoodie. She wore me well. It's cold in here. I always kept her warm, cool, and sometimes hot. I'm a L.A. Clippers sweater, but did that matter to her? She jumped a fence. She thought it would camouflage her. And it brought attention that didn't cause attention to the fence hoping shenanigans. She was part of a group, dressed all in black, for that one day. I was discovered and I disappeared. I was an unlucky find. I was a gross sports jock's sweater. I was in a locker. She discovered the game again after college. She sometimes snuck her head in and out but nothing committing her to me, to us. I found out that even though she had trouble finding the right size, she never stopped loving me. I love her back. I was on her back. She's cold now. I can warm her up. I can feel her under my cotton sleeves. She will remain in my imagination, as I know she will one day live in it.
By: Brandy Ruiz
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