Let me share a simple… EEeeek… It happened and I’m not going to tell you.  It’s way to shocking.  You might think less of me and … well… 




Comfort finds itself where ever you’re looking

It’s whether you notice the sign of it

Like… RIP Comfort lies here

or… Get In Here for some huggies

or.. This Meadow is Open For You

or…Let Me Give YOU a Big Cuddle

If only

The signs of comfort were flash cards

big enough to read from far enough away

If only


Comfort never really left you 

even when you shrug it off in dismiss

or when you like to wallow in the stain

of misery with that negative company

you keep cause letting them go is a

perverse comfort that has no meadow green

and the cuddle impales you on dark history


Comfort is what you make of it I guess

All signs point in its direction

and maybe a spiky throat collar lets

you know you’re all good and right 

with the world and if you dare say a damn

thing against that kind of comfort

 those spikes cut your wind off

and the gasp for air gives no comfort at all


Now get over here and give me a big hug.


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