jumpers

It's strewn on the floor

again, because I was too lazy

to throw it in the hamper

and instead it's on the carpet floor.

And it's there next time

I'm crying on the floor;

I'm floating around life again;

I'm thinking about my future

And knitted fabric and torn up sleeves

Hug me like no one else could.

Each one tells a story

no one else could know. 

So I pick it up off the floor,

And get up myself,

Tug at my sleeves and curl up,

These clothes are my call for help.