Hoodie

Hey everybody! As promised, I did some editing over the weekend and finally finally finally FH is at 50,000 words (and counting)!! :D We hit 50k at chapter 18, I believe, and right now I'm starting on Chapter 20 and it's at 51k. So there definitely won't be a problem with word count anymore - this, at least, I can guarantee!

Now you might be thinking "hey, why is the title of this post 'Hoodie'? Has Topaz finally gone round the bend?" Never fear, my sanity is still (somewhat) intact! ;) "Hoodie" is the name of the poem I mentioned in Friday's post - the one I wrote when I was half-asleep - but now that I'm looking at it with fully conscious eyes I thought I'd share it with you guys because I actually really like it. :D Sorry for the depressing-ness - I promise there's nothing wrong, I just happen to really like playing around with imagery and it's easier to do that with sadness than happiness. :P Most of the poems I've posted recently have been kind of melancholy, but don't worry - y'all will get some happy ones soon ;)

Let me know what you think! :)

love, Topaz

Hoodie

my mother sees me wearing your hoodie and her eyes roam over the threadbare grey flannel tattered sleeves, threads hanging long timeworn from being cuddled in one too many times and a faded, barely recognisable red sox logo plastered on the back

she speaks with hardly concealed exasperation that comes from watching the sadness that was once sporadic, rare but has now come to drift permanently beneath my eyelids you don’t even like baseball, she tells me

does it matter? I want to say and I answer for her in my mind no I do not like baseball no it does not matter and I want to crawl into her arms and I want to feel her warm embrace and I want to pour out everything

I want to tell her about the days spent with your hand in mine with your big booming presence to fill the gaping holes where loneliness now lingers I want to tell her about how when I hold it close and bury my face in it I can almost smell you deep deep deep in the grey flannel folds I want to tell her about how it was as much a part of forever as you were – but that was when I still believed in forever

and I say nothing only wrap my hands around my knees and squeeze my eyes shut tight tight tight and hide away the words that are pounding at the walls of my heart the mishmash miscellany of words that want nothing more than to gush out of my mouth and into her harsh, pitiless ears

but I silence them the river of unforgivable words because if there is one thing that I have learned it is this: it is better to drown in an ocean of silence than to bleed from her sharp piercing cutting accusations like knives stabbing into my already wounded heart