<p>A short story by Sarah Peters on the similarities between a person and a sweat shirt.</p>
You ask me,
“Where have you lived?”
As you draw circles
on my stomach
trying to make me whole.
I tell you,
“In the sweat stains
of every shirt I own.”
You look at me
like I’m trying to be poetic.
You can see
the worst and best days
depending on the patch,
tinged slightly brown,
on each of my blue shirts.
No matter how hard
I try and scrub my anxieties
from the places, they seep
I say nothing at all.