subject line: burnt t-shirts.


lynchburg, virginia

You gave me that tshirt with your college name printed bold on the front. I wore it at night to bed when the 450-mile distance felt insurmountable. (It’s strange that that same distance now feels claustrophobic.) That thread-bare gray knew my tears better than anything else. I clung to that shirt as if it were my life and blood and oxygen all wrapped up into one.

I burned that shirt today.