I, am but a mere blanket. Warm, aged, never folded up and made of wool. I’m always cheering people up and making them comfortable with themselves. I’ve let my experiences shape me into who I am, from cuts and scars to stains and bleached out memories. From broken hearts to lies and deceit, and what’s the harm in another drink to wash away the pain? I’m nowhere near proper by any means but I do go about life with the best of intentions in my pocket. I’m strong, reliable and easy to like, and I’ll carry the burden of your problems with you.

         I, am but a simple blanket; faded, always on the floor, calming and always a reminder of the past. I’ve seen the sights and felt the pain I’ve been ever so entitled to. I’ve heard every problem, talked to any stranger and said goodbye more times than should be allowed. I’m always here even if you don’t need me; It’s just how I am. Besides, where’s a blanket to go? Whenever people think of me they always remember the good times, the bad times, and the better times that we’ve shared. Memories are memories and we can’t just forget them. With my welcoming personality I calm people down with a weird sort of ease almost always knowing what to say.
         I, am just a blanket, with my practical uses and my meaningful memories. I’m warm, aged, never folded up, made of wool, faded and always tucked away. I’m very calming and a constant reminder of possibly greater times. That, is why I am a blanket.