Ill fitting

I wrap myself in words

like newspaper.

Stuffed under a threadbare coat

for warmth and comfort through the night

and sometimes just to run my fingers across and remember.

But you only every gave me phrases

a sentence here and there.

A scarf too thin to block the wind,

a whole in my gloves and my fingers numb.

Your words a spark I held in my hand,

desperate to coax a flame,

but overeager,

my breath snuffed it out.