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You had my jacket.
You had a part of me that I was okay with leaving behind.
I felt so cold without it,
my jacket
I contacted you
"I want my jacket back, I don't want to see you, please give it back"
"You will have it back Saturday."
I was home Saturday.
You showed up at night soon after I fell asleep. It was folded neatly, but not with care.
At the top of my front porch steps.
You didn't want to step onto the porch where I bit the hand that beat me.
I remember seeing how hard you flinched. I felt nothing on impact but it made a sound that will forever echo in my mind.
My jacket was stained with the smoke you breathe.
I hated the smell but I couldn't stop myself.
Before washing it I smelt it and cried.
"This would have worked if you made the right decision"
It would have.
You would have never made the right decision.
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