under my blanket there are no dreams.
no starlight. no warm rain.
i tried to remember my friends
i see no one but a brown teddy
who stared and kept staring.
to its eyes i recognize,
a familiar feeling, an old loneliness.
a feeling that waited through months of grief.
“which past did you come from?”
i understood though i cant hear its voice.
i shared my blanket.
under it, the past cannot be found.