Pulling Threads

heart with thread

I fold my limbs inward

A shapeless, imperceptible stalk

That does not flower or incline

It’s sullen face skyward



My roots rejoice

In fertile soil

Never mind that it is the corpse

Of my very own heart

That I indiscriminately feed upon

I know no blood sweeter than ink

No obsession more compulsive

Than pulling out threads


I will strip my psyche

Until no sin can claim wholly

My innocence

Until no trauma

Can force me to sleep

And act unconsciously


There is nothing more alluring

Than sincerity

I’ll offer myself without

Caveat or camouflage

Judge me if you must

But never say

That I wasn’t myself


I defend against oversight

No one truly wants to be


No one wants to scream

Their echos

Recoiling in vacancy

Every molecule within

Seeks to connect


I hunt for your true name

That I may work my voodoo

Into your arteries and veins

There is no more pervasive addiction

Than love

I crave it more than most

Having entered this world

With nothing but my instincts


My 3 obsessions

1. Introspection

2. Writing

3. Love

Submission for

Poet’s United