Blankets

This is where I get mad. You. You are the one who said you'd be there. Not collapsing all over "I forgots" with little spitting on 'em. Bringing others down with you, too, with those arms that were always good at wrapping. Thank gawts you usually simply use that skill just for hugging, but we both know how you fucked that whole thing up. Along with everything else we used to think of as honest affection and which now all smells like a dirty cape coming down to glorify whomever can wrap like you. No one. Here; it's yours.