Your pink hoodie’s still by my bed
I swore I’d toss it, but kept it instead
Smells like a fight and a midnight hug
Old songs, bad jokes, and half-filled mugs
It’s not that I miss you, not quite
But I still wear it late at night
Not for you, just for the past
The part of me that hoped we’d last
This pink hoodie’s soft but strange
Feels like home but not the same
I zip it up, I breathe you in
Just for a second, then back again
It hangs on the hook like it’s still yours
Beside my keys and the closet doors
I tried to move on, tried to let go
But fabric holds more than we know
It’s comfort wrapped in old regret
A memory I can’t forget
It’s not love, it’s not pain
Just a ghost in cotton and a name
This pink hoodie’s soft but strange
Feels like home but not the same
I zip it up, I breathe you in
Just for a second, then back again
Maybe one day I’ll pack it away
But tonight, it’s the safest place
I wear it like I used to smile
Not for him—just for a while
This pink hoodie, faded and torn
Still feels like something I once wore
Not a heartache, not a flame
Just a thread that still knows your name