if peanut butter toast is the blanket, then i am the baby...

in need of comfort and swadling; in need of something or someone to peer down into my red little face and my clear blue eyes and say, “you are held.”
nothing has happened to me; no action or event has inflicted enough pain upon my life that would indicate i need this comfort, this love, this cherishing.
no, nothing has happened; this is just what a baby needs.