when i wake up

when i was five, i had a twin-sized bed full of stuffed animals, 

so many that my mom wondered how i made room for myself.

.˚⭒⋆

they each had their own names, personalities, stories —

teddy grahams, the pink bear who came on all my adventures, 

ms. cow, from the fair where i lost my first tooth,

liao, the world-class jump-roper dog… 

every night, i hugged a different one as i fell asleep 

so everyone got their turn

and no one felt left out.

.˚⭒⋆

a few years later, i switched to a queen-sized bed,

which would’ve made younger me ecstatic to fill with stuffed animals.

⋆

but i wasn’t.

⋆

big kids don’t have stuffed animals.

⋆

so i hid them

in the basement,

closet,

boxes

hoping they all got their turn.

⋆˚

✧˖°.

⋆˚

i wonder if they miss me, 

like how i miss the little girl 

who thought she could always make room for them, 

even as she grew.