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Updated: Apr 16, 2021

by ALEX NORRIS - March 31, 2021

My childhood is like a blanket

So soft, and so comforting

It served as shelter, as a place to run back to

To keep me safe

But it started to tear

The seams snipping away

So used, and so tired

The seams got so worn,

The blanked ripped in two

I still grasped onto both pieces

I couldn’t bear to let them go

My grip on the two worn pieces grew less tight

Less desperate

I walked with them weighing on my shoulders

They started to decay

Slowly fading away

When I got older and older

I didn’t notice them after a while.

The blanket started to reek of alcohol and smoke

Beginning to turn discolored from the dirt and dust it collected

Until one day

I let the two halves go.

Little by little

I started constructing my own blanket

Seam by seam

My new sense of home

Starting to work its way up from the ashes of the previous one

Fresher, clean

And whole again

It was comforting and new

Only this time

I didn’t hold onto it so hard

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