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