Comfortable Jumpers

A lot of people talk about depression,
As a dark hole or a pit of despair
Mine feels more like a comfortable jumper,
You know the one
It’s so filthy that,
No matter how many times you wash it,
It is forever stained with life’s occurrences,
It smells like that person you miss,
It has the paint on from your first flat,
It’s marred with little holes
From your first pet and years of hard work,
It’s seen more blood, sweat and tears
Than any teddy bear.
It has seen beatings, meetings and goodbyes,
It was around for THAT kiss,
It was soaked in the rain and bleached by the sun,
But it’s still there at the bottom of your bed,
In the back of your cupboard,
It’s with you when you’re cold
In the shadows and the night.
And no matter how hard you try,
You can never throw it out.


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