It’s impossibly ugly this sweater, but I wear it each week, no matter the weather

It was a gift I accepted with false expression

I left the giver under the wrong impression,

No word of my true discretion.

Truth is, I don’t like it. ****

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**A thread pull away from a striptease.**

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The neck hole is loose,

The sleeves are baggy,

And I feel every breeze.

Yet, week after week, I slip it on again. In my sanctuary, in the quiet, in the stillness.

I wear this ugly sweater behind closed doors only close ones can see.

I have experienced grief, sadness and hurt in this sweater

Every tear caught in its hems

I have found love in this sweater,

Every hug cushioned by its plush.

Ugh, I don’t like this sweater.

But, I sure do enjoy its “company”