I sit slumped against your pillows, fur faded, one eye wiser than the other. Every hour I stay silent, I am a decoration— quiet, creased, collecting dust and daylight. By night I am a guard dog, brave in the blue hush of your room. I have swallowed your worries for years, stitched them into my seams. You hold me close, I hold your secrets closer. When the world feels wide and loud, I stay small and soft— a steady heartbeat made of cotton and courage.