Tangles – A Poem


I was born with a loop around my neck

and even then I knew–

I will breathe in quick, choking sips

and live on in old video skips.


I had wound around and into

the knot –

and held on to nots and whatnots

with fingers trying to weave

back into fists,

back into palms,

so even then I had known I could never be calm


I am covered in stitched hitches

that catch every needle’s eye.

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