socks & shoes

I wear my sisters socks, they are pink, I would never have bought them in a fit. Now they have a hole in them, I threw them in the bin afew times and each time I have scooped them out. They are stuffed in my bra drawer now. I see them each time I open that drawer, I smile each time.

Its my mums fault she gave me afew bags of clothes that belonged to Ann & Michele, she kept Michele's shoes 'cause she is a size 7. I got all Ann's shoes 'cause she is a 5 like me, I dont wear any of Ann's shoes they live in a bag in a cupboard. I cant throw them out or give them away, I take them out sometimes my finger removes the dust and for a silent moment they are being worn by Ann and Ann is off to work or something. Ann's coat is in a bag too along with lots of her things. Her cook book is my favourite untouched by others i'm the only one who looks in it, I sit carefully at the table each page turned with ease, my blues scan the pages. She left little messages on each page, a recipe here and a recipe written there. I love that book so much.

I dont think Mum has worn any of Michele's shoes either, their just there in another bag, another reminder. God I hate reminders and yet sometimes I need them to cope.

Michele's denim jacket is in my wardrobe, her tissue and a bus ticket is still in her pocket, her perfume has gone but i still smell it.

Oh god im rambling.... excuse me