Sheer as a sheet

of paper, your skin,

brittle beneath my fingertips,

has long since worn thin.

Your softness eroded

under my touch,

once-plump figure now sags

within my clutch.

Drooping at the edges,

no longer new,

smile still as bright

as the day I first saw you.

Fabric-lined soul,

cotton-stuffed heart,

you chase all my monsters

back into the dark.

You fray at the seams,

button eyes no longer shine.

Still, I love you all the same,

for you’ll always be mine.

Tuck me into bed,

whisper lullabies

as I stain your cloth shoulder

with my salt-filled eyes.

I snuggle into your chest,

embraced warmly.

You may have no heartbeat,

but you’re living to me.

Your mouth is stitched shut,

your limp limbs hang still

as you watch while I grow

in a way you never will.

Fabric-lined soul,

cotton-stuffed heart,

beautiful mishmash

of patches and parts.

Bound with your body,

breathed life anew –

real’s not how you’re made,

it just happens to you.