Cotton filled friends
9 squish mallows, big bear, hospital gift store monkey, 2 blueys, an owl, spring green frog, a few dogs, cats, and more. My babies.
Every night without fail,
Before letting myself drift off to sleep.
I line up my stuffed animals,
All of them tucked under the covers.
Surrounded, crowded, loved.
Partially for them,
Partially for me.
We can be each others company,
In a bed that’s far too lonesome,
For any one of us, alone.
Sometimes, I drink for the sole purpose,
Of coming home confused.
Waking up,
Disoriented, aching mind, aching body.
In that blissful in-between,
Awakening, deep slumber.
For a moment, it can be easier to imagine.
It’s their body.
Their beautiful, cold touch,
Pressed up against my chest, bare.
Not my assorted, cotton filled friends.
