Ambivalence

You pricked your finger again
but no blood escapes your skin.
You must catch the threads
before they begin unraveling.


The knots you’ve tied to your fingers
which you held so dearly for days
Turned into dewy spiderwebs
in a calm, moonlit night.


The smell of the reaper’s blade is back
and it’s searing your soul.
You pricked your finger once again
so that you will be forced to let go.


The pain made you remember that
sooner or later these strings would decay.
You’ll be left alone once again,
Making knots to cut and healing hands to prick.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s