Ode to my Squishmallow

More than corporate-brand

plush posed as décor,

she is a soft presence.

Private to my room.

She is a quiet healer,

unaware of the role

thrust upon her.

 She has held me on nights

when my body squeezed

so tight,

her soft ears regulating my breath

and stilling my hands,

holding space within her fur

to soak up tears I didn’t know

where to put.

She has seen me grow,

shift and transform,

and she shares this silent

memory of us

small in my room,

but holds so much space

she never asked for,

but never once refused.