I am a worn down pillow
soaked in last night's tears.
Silent sobs and swallowed breathing,
thin and torn
holding on by a thread.

I am Hallmark cards on a dresser top
birthdays, one year, get well soon
inked with loving words, written wishes,
xoxo, hugs and kisses
from the perfect person.

I am the orange blanket
portraying an image of the boy #31,
who gave it to me.
His name neatly sewn into the soft, layered fabric,
keeping me warm,
covering dreams and protecting myself
from insecurities.

I am baggy black sweatpants and a red Wisconsin badgers sweatshirt
lazy, loose, just right.
Comfortable clothing on this uncomfortable skin
hiding the parts of me I despise the most,
disgusting.