The shirt my aunt bought me
The boy walked into Soho
after his mum
before his dad
His brother was there too
i don't remember where
.
It felt like a Tuesday
a waiter looked at him, and said hello
The boy felt so grown up
There were pillows on some of the chairs,
their colours were subtle but warm
He didn't understand why but he thought they matched the light
.
His aunt was visiting from America
she was on a holiday with her daughters
They were loud
and friendly
and unapologetic
He wished he saw them more
.
She had brought the boy a present
his brother got one too
It was a T-shirt, dark blue specked with white
a little pocket on the chest
and there was no picture on it
He didn't understand why but he thought it matched the light
.
This was a brave new step for the boy
though he didn't know it yet
You see the boy had worn the same outfit every day for as long as he could remember
dark blue jeans, a graphic tee, and a zip-up hoodie
The zip was important
His hair was the same too
sometimes longer
sometimes shorter
but never different
He wanted to put gel in it but he didn't
.
He was afraid someone would notice he had tried
and then think he had failed
.
So he needed a reason
an excuse
a justification
For everything
If someone asked why he chose that hoodie he would say he liked the zip
If someone asked about his shirt he would say he liked the picture
everyone wore jeans
and his hair had always been that way
Everything had a reason
.
But this shirt was different
There was no picture to hide behind
he just thought it was nice
it was a little big but the boy didn't care
he just thought it was nice
He would never have picked it himself but he knew he would wear it
it was the shirt his aunt bought him
that could be a reason
he could hide behind her
and no-one would know he had tried
.
The boy mumbled a thank you
he was a little shy
He wanted to say more but he didn't
he hadn't learned the right words yet
His aunt had no idea what she had actually given him
she didn't even think he liked it
.
...........................................
.
A man sits on his desk
smoking a cigarette out his bedroom window
There is music playing, it's a melancholic tune
sad but filled with hope
he doesn't understand why but he thinks it matches the light
.
His reflection catches in the glass
his hair is different
his shirt is bold
and the essence of a beard rests on his face
The man finishes his cigarette and remembers the boy
he stubs out the embers
Tired, he climbs down from his desk
and walks to his dresser
.
He opens the middle drawer, it is filled with shirts
not just T-shirts but all kinds of tops
The man isn't afraid anymore
beneath the jumpers, and the flannels, and the long sleeves,
lies a t-shirt, dark blue specked with white
a little pocket on the chest
and there is no picture on it
.
He picks it up
it feels like memories
and smells like possibilities
He recalls the time his aunt visited from America
and he remembers the waiter who said hello
The man feels so grown up
He remembers the pillows on the chairs
with the colours subtle but warm
and he understands why the boy thought the shirt matched the light
.
He puts it on
it fits him properly now
He feels like the boy in Soho again
mumbling a thank you
he wants to say something more
He has finally learned the right words
but there is no one to say them to
So he writes a poem instead.
. . .
This one might not mean much to most people but I cried while writing it
Posted Nov 25, 2022, 1:45 AM UTC · edited