My Balnkey

When I'm with my blankey
I feel safe and warm.
Like I'm its king and it's my guard.
It smells like me.
White as a cloud,
shiny as neon.
Holes torn in by biting when I was one or two.
Tears trickle down my face when I lose it.
But when it's revealed, I smile cheek to cheek.
My blankey means everything to me.