flakyftw

I found a shirt I saw as beautiful while just a small child So short that shirt became like a dress A buck guarding his doe, framed in fall leaves on a white grey canvas Fabric so soft I felt if I pulled, it would split into goose down When my skin itched and scratched to everything else, the shirt did not upset me or make my skin break out It was kind to me, but time was not kind to it When one got dirty, I'd put on its twin the two discarded shirts found at a secondhand were like treasures until like a loved plushie, tiny tears formed Eyes became holes, neck, and soon it was worn and nothing but trash and every now and then, I just think o