It's dangerous,
The way I've sewn parts of you
Through every fibre of my being.

Now that you've messed up
All I can hear at random times
Is a tearing sound,
Like when you rip apart cloth.

Little by little
With every anxious thought
I rip you out.

Little by little
I try to forgive you,
Rethreading to repair.

What kind of tapestry
Will I be in the end?