It’s just a knot.

It’s not.

Right a knot.

No what I mean is that’s not a knot.

She’s doing that thing again where she tells me things are just things but really some things are more than just things. The knot is not a knot. It’s a bundle of phantoms and she doesn’t ever believe. It’s a cacophony of feedback and death-knells clashing. It’s teeth and screams and broken blood vessels. it’s my intestines wrapping my throat noose-like. It’s darkness and-

What are you thinking about?

If I give you a razor can you help me cut it out?

Stop being stupid and go to sleep. It’s a knot.

No, it’s not a knot. It’s like. It’s a tangle of other things. Can you please just-

No. I said go to sleep.

I sleep uneasy and wake just the same.

I made you an appointment.

What kind of appointment?

She’s good. She’ll get the knot out.

It’s not a knot, but ok.

She said on the phone you have a knot.

Yeah. Something like that.

I take note of her eyes. Brown. Soft. Needle in right hand. Left fingers massaging the bridge of her nose. She’s shaking her head. She’s frowning. She’s looking at me serious. She’s frowning.

Not a knot.

I know. I told her that.

More a shadow, more an echo, not a knot. Needles won’t work. Have to get the snakes. Snakes get rid of ghosts.

Alright. Snakes then.

You don’t listen. You’re haunted. Snakes get rid of ghosts. Need more money for snakes. Need snakes for ghosts.

Whatever. Snakes. Get the snakes.

She’s staring at me again. She’s staring. She’s staring. She puts her needles away. She drifts behind the curtain covering the doorway behind me. The air shivers. The room trembles. I’m cold when she comes back. Snake tank on the cart in front of her. They’re all black. All night sky. All charcoal and shadows. Midnight snakes. I’m waiting. She’s staring.

You flip over. Don’t watch.

I’m thinking I wouldn’t be able to watch behind me anyway. I’m thinking it’s cold. I’m thinking that-

Don’t watch. You understand? Don’t watch.

She’s staring.

Yeah. I won’t watch.

I flip onto my stomach. Face against the dark vinyl. I smell bleach. I’m cold. I’m raised skin. I’m fear. Fuck. I’m the fear. I’m cold. I feel her moving. I can hear the snakes. One, two, three, they fall against my skin. Slithering. Quivering. I’m tremors. I’m vibrations.

Don’t watch.

I’m the fear. I feel the big one on my shoulder blades. It’s slinking into the pits where my neck and back meet. I’m sweating. I’m the fear. And it’s midnight. And it’s teeth. I feel teeth. I feel fangs. I feel blood.

Don’t watch.

They’re swarming. They’re legion. They’re many. They’re rushing and slipping inside me. And she bends over me. Mouth to snake bite. And sucks. My center is pulling away. My insides are crawling to the spot where her mouth is pulling venom. And I’m the venom. I’m the fear. And she’s inhaling ghosts. She’s imbibing shadows. And she’s screaming. And I’m screaming. And I’m the fear. And my body is fire and rage. And I’m writhing. And I’m the snakes. I’m the dark. I’m the fear. And she’s spitting me out in waves. Coughing out knots. Coughing out tangles. Crying out memories. Vomiting echoes. And I’m screaming out ache. And I’m the fear. I’m the fear.

Don’t watch.

Unraveled knots

lost connections

I’m coming loose

frayed past

Unraveled knots

tongue tied

fibers of envy

strangled flesh

Unraveled knots

flipped ropes

spinning twine

warped memories

Unraveled knots

contorted thoughts

condensed ligaments

melted dreams

Cat’s cradle like

Lost plot like

extension cord hell like

beating like

mindrace pileup like

ziptied synapses

chokepoint

reroute frayed wires

fraid whyers why

slipknot squareknot squarenot Slipknot

devilstongue cloven clovehitch jesuschrist

monstrance monster darklight purpled wrists in skull

just

just cut the motherfucker

“Jasmine sit still.” She pulled her daughter closer to her as she gripped her long thick mane with one hand and an elastic & paddle brush in the other. “Why must we go through this battle each and every day jasmine!?”

“ Momma, you are hurting my head!” She pulled away from her mom and asked for her purple brush back. “Let me do it.”

“ No ma’m! Last time you did your own hair for a week and it took me about a month to finally work all of those dreadful knots out of your hair. Need I find the pic in my cell phone?”

Jasmine placed her hand on her hip in a defiant pose. “Fine! But all my friends in first grade do it themselves! You aren’t fair.”

“Good for them. Now today I’m doing it and besides it is picture day. Now hold still and let me put this last braid in.”

Her daughter fell to the floor and crossed not only her legs but her arms too. She wanted to be fierce and independent like her two older sisters and best friend. Her mom did not understand she was perfectly capable of keeping the knots out of her hair and taking care of herself. Her mom would not approve of it though.

Maybe someday. ....

~ sMOOTh

L S

I i

k l

E k

.

.

.

I

drink

you

in,

to

find

s M

e

Y l

f

in

knots

again.

A challenge.

A war.

To make it

Clear.

A bang.

A clash.

Not a

Birthday bash.

Pots and

Kettles.

Roses with

Nettles.

A relationship.

It’s damned.

A definition?

It’s cramped!

Two heads.

One room..

A poisonous

Cocoon.

Eyebrows

Are knotted.

Brawls

Unsorted.

Crimson

And black.

A blemished

Crack..

A family

Burned.

The tables

Are turned...

A knot

In my hand..

With love

Comes demand.

How shall I

Unwind it?

Will I win

Or forfeit?

.

.

.

.

The knots

Are in display.

Touch the fire..

Burn the day.

Everyone asks " why can't you just untie it?" " Why can't you just let go?" Being held captive by another persons power who has the authority to make you feel for them, think of them, cry for them, beg for them, fuck it I'll even bleed for them. Holding strong, twisting, turning, cutting into my skin like a million silver pins. I am the punching bag that refuses to go down. Let me out so I can let love in but instead I invited you in and you have been here 3yrs far too long to be fucking up my space. It wasn't a waste, we cracked towards the end my friend. I keep your name loose on my lips and you keep mines ever so tight. One day I will bite until my teeth rots. Tonight, I'll sleep here, I'll hold my throat clutched. Living with this knot.

Is this right? This rush. This pleasure. The twist of pain.

The rope stings as it moves across my skin. Flesh caught against the fibers as it pulls to wrap itself about my waist. A tug here. A slight jerk there. The way her fingers tie the knots about my wrists is enough to bring my lip between my teeth.

The rope drags up my forearms. She knots it about my chest. Each time she moves it tighter sends a shiver through me.

All tied up and nowhere to go. My insides knot to mimic the ropes I am bound in.

Who knew how delicious such knots could be.

slowly.

hands gently grace the rope.

feeling the weight of their panic.

cutting off the circulation to my words.

tighter, they pull.

leaving bruises only the mirror sees.

tied in a tangled mess.

impossible to reach, impossible to cut.

i am.

k

n

o

t

t

e

d