I have a blanket.
I wrap it around me as I suck my thumb.
My blanket’s name is Misery,
And my thumb is called Bitterness.

I keep them with me daily.
Misery keeps me company.
It sees the emptiness left by others
And seeks to fill the void.

Bitterness feeds me, day by day.
The taste sickened me at first,
But I have tasted it so long
That I have grown used to it.

I’d never give them up.
They have faithfully been by my side,
When no one else would.

Though they poison me
And I grow weaker,
I will not let them go.
I can not let them go.
Another older poem that describes how I felt at the time, but not how I feel now.


2 thoughts on “Blanket and Thumb

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