T-Shirt
I've had this t-shirt
most of my life
it is this sacred thing,
this worn cloth ritual instrument
I remember wearing it to sleep
to dream of campfires and the boys
I never wanted to wake up
I would just laugh
while they blamed it on jet lag
and flushed in the day with
fast food eggs and sausage
I would try to steal naps
to get back to that place
I wore this shirt
over to their house
under the guide of babysitting
we would play
hide and seek
in the dark
and use hair spray as a flame thrower
against the unseen threats
until we all smelled of burned grass and alcohol
I never thought I looked better
I never thought about
what you were thinking of me
I wore this shirt
when I found out about your father
and there were no more Saturdays
We took our toys
and set them on fire
and went home.
I've had this t-shirt
most of my life
it is this sacred thing,
with tiny holes and rough edges
I fear it leaving me
like they have.