I am caring for a lonely.
It is my sole company.
I cling to it like a teddy bear.

My Lonely is cold so I warm
it with the heat of my body.
I cover it with blankets,
dark and red hot by my belly.

It outgrows my home and
turns into a lumbering grizzly,
knocking over all I belong to.
A nest wrecked by too much care.
A containment breach!

I argue. My Lonely strops.
The 12am fights show on my face,
ablaze with marshmallow eyes.
But its enormity expands until I
am kicked out of a home,
looking for the remnants
of what I have starved myself from.

© Eva Irvine