Sweater.

My sweater is gentle,
like the departure of dandelion seeds.

My sweater is worn,
like a strongly emotional diary.

My sweater is thanked,
like important needs.

My sweater is special,
like the opening of a gift.

My sweater is weaved,
of fluttering pride flags
of warm smiles
of loving hugs
it is of words 
and books
and being trans
 
R

Rosepathfading

VT

15 years old

More by Rosepathfading

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  • Poetry

    By Rosepathfading

    future

    i'd like to have thing figured out
    biologist, doctor, xray tech
    will it be too much?
    geo 2, double science, p.e
    i've planned it all out
    school, homework, workout
    but what of my friends
    and the decay of aging

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  • Fiction

    By Rosepathfading

    opening to my story <3

    From outside the tank, through crimson red glass framed by dark metals, you could see a face. It was a fair face, one of charm and prominence. The body looks gelatinous, as if the weeks of incubation and chemicals had smoothed it down.

    Read More