When I wear his shirt, it feels like, like his skin over mine. And the little holes and tears and shreds on it are, are, are the, the memories of the past that I wasn't there for, but, that somehow I, I, I feel like I understand more when it's against my skin. It's an armor, like a barrier from the world. Like, our secret nobody else knows and I like that, you know? It makes me feel like a woman, it makes me feel sexy, it makes me feel it makes me feel like I'm his (I'm his, I'm his, I'm his, I'm his, I'm his)