When my mother moved on, she left behind a yellow sweater.
I hated yellow.
So I left it in the closet, building up dust like a piece of tape on the dirty floors. Years left and forgotten, so was the sweater.
I found the sweater again, I pressed the soft fabric to my face, trying to conjure up her scent.
I couldn't.
I put the sweater on and tugged at the too short sleeves.
Looking down at my arms, I finally saw the purple sweater for the first time.
Maybe denial is the longest stage of grief.
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139,121 Literary Works • 672,413 Reviews
Hi Cora, welcome to YWS! Thank you for sharing your work today.
This is a very short yet effective piece. Each sentence is given its own line for dramatic effect, making it hit with a real gut punch. We learn about the protagonist's mother, how she has passed away and left a yellow sweater, which the protagonist hides away because she dislikes yellow. When she is older, she finds the sweater and tries it on, realising it is purple and not yellow, though this may be pure denial, which, of course, is a major stage of grief, as you say at the end.
The best detail is trying to conjure up the mother's scent and not being able to, because it's been so long. It's a very sad image.
It works as a short piece, but I think this sort of emotional scene could be built up a bit more. You could personify the protagonist and describe more about the sweater, build up a life so it feels more like a shock when the sweater is purple and not just a statement on grief, but rather becomes a short story that centres on grief, if that makes sense?
A very nice short piece, hope you are doing okay! <3
This poem reminds me of a book I read a while ago, that sometimes grief can actually be your greatest enemy. It tortures you making up scenarios that always go back to it being your fault.
I loved the part about her mother it adds charter to the story, vague but enough.
Now my brain is in spirals, what did the mum do? why does she hate yellow so much?
Keep writing you're doing amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!