knot

sometimes i want to tell you all my faults—

i want to sit you down and tell you

everything

one then the next

a warless surrender

over the razed wooden field of the table

in the kitchen

and hands under the table

twisting

and knotted fingers—

and i want to tell you because i

should

and because i know you're wrong about me—

i want to put words in your head

pour through your ears

and i know it will harm me

but the truth is precious

like you—

but they stop

half-out

and i try to talk and knots pull tight—

and i smile and say something

something that isn't right

but what else is there to say to you

white flag, and i speak

something like—

I'll tell you later.


Author's notes: More old writing, and more poetry. Meanwhile, on the RL side of things, it's just over a week until I get my exam results and I'm scared to death. D: