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:
