Sweaters

I am made of sweaters
Layers and layers of fabric
Soft at the core of my being

The outermost sweater is woolen
Rough and scratchy
Abrasively cold from the weather

The innermost sweater is thick and soft
Creamy and rich
Decadent in size, shape, and color
 
Both are me, whether I like it or not
The good and the bad of me
But there’s more than just that
 
The middle sweaters are an assortment
Some loved and some hated
Scads of them
 
There is one that I hate and love
Bright and cheery
Full of M’s holiday sentiment
 
Another is J. Crew
My mother and my daughter
A level of sophistication that does not suit me
 
Amid the chaos you’ll find threads of bright yellow
The color of sprinkles on a Peep
C’s love of candy and sunshine personality
 
Then there’s the sweatshirts
To me those are sweaters
Plastered with sentiments matching my people
 
A political sweatshirt
K’s drive woven in the fabric
Her need for change and advocacy woven into me
 
Somewhere close to the core is one for Ken and Dad
Plastered with a science pun
One that reminds me of their silly grins and love of genes
 
Faded pink and well-worn
My constant companion in academia
By my side when Z’s dedication and drive bleeds into me
 
Tucked in there is a cardigan
The closest I get to soft prep style
A reflection of my other half
 
The sweater right before the center is pitch black
Over-sized and perfect for finding yourself in a dorm room
Lying on your backs and talking about girls
 
I am made of sweaters
Sweaters of me, sure, but the best sweaters,
The best parts, are them