Resting on the edge of my bed,
Separated from everything else.
Big and red,
Strong and meaningful.
Inside you hold the memories,
Good and bad.
But most of all
The pain,
And the hate.
Tears soaked into your seems,
And dried in your stuffing.
Indents from my death grip,
Deaf from the screaming in your ears.
Bundles of fur crusted together
From the sorrow.
I hated life, I hated him.
I never got to be
“Daddy’s little girl”

You were there for me,
When no one else was.
You understood me,
When everyone else was confused.
You got me through my child hood
Without a dad in my life.
Because inside you there’s a piece of him
That I can always go to.
And when he may be three thousand miles away,
I’ve got you right by my side,
Resting on the edge of my bed.