I was thinking about the blue ones.
They make me melt through the bottom of the bed
All the way down into the floorboards,
and sometimes into the magical land between.
Another year came and went
only this time it was two.
She looks just like her sister,
all string-beany and overjoyed at little stars in bass
I hope you'll be better than where you're from
and who you're supposed to be.
After new narratives to picture books
and unsolicited commentary to scooby doo
There's a bum ticker, and creeping self infliction.
Better to disappear slowly.
Quietly.