Sweaters

The girl who wears her heart on her sleeve
Will always be a subject to change
For even throughout her short, tiny subscore
She will be open to incredible pain

Her clothing is woven with string and red bloodstains
Stained from having her heart on display
And though I leave room for color and detail
I think you may still remember her name.

Memyselfandi
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 11/18/2025

Poet's note: This poem is written as a testament to my own experiences.
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