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md-writer Apr 2015
tie those knots around me tighter
don't ever let me out again
or
i'll cut your heart to ribbons when you're
lookin in the mirror

don't you ever give me wiggle-room
a place to fly free again
cuz there's nothin you
can ever gain from me

don't look me in the  face
it will knife you again
just tie the knots tighter
push my black hood back on

i'm a dangerous animal
don't let me go free
keep your eyes safe and look away
or
you'll be the next in line

staring up at me
wondering
how is this
happening
......
so tie those knots around me tighter
don't let me ever out again
or
i'll cut your heart to ribbons when you're
lookin in the mirror
I'm tired of this part of me that does things that makes my heart bleed when I look at myself....
Neha Nathani Mar 2015
I wish I could
unknow you
like I would
undo a knot--

over, above
under and through
my mind untangled
from the thoughts of you

but I find that
unknowing you
is less like unraveling
stubborn strings

and a little more like
trying to unclasp
a relentless grip
around my neck
MdAsadullah Dec 2014
Oh Sleeping believer on the bed!
Three knots at the back of your head,
each contains Satan's words enchanting.
' The night is, long, so keep on sleeping, '
' The night is, long, so keep on sleeping, '
' The night is, long, so keep on sleeping, '
wake-up praising Allah, untie the first one,
perform the ablution second will be undone,
execute the salah so that remains none.
Send the dullness, gloominess far away.
Get up in the morning lively and gay. :)
I get edgy sometimes-
When I see knots-
I freeze up.

I get upset when I try to untangles them-
Like earphones and other audio cords-
Auxiliaries, usbs and inputs.

I get frustrated-
Easily with entanglement-
I hate knots but.

Our bodies could be a knot, that I wouldn't want to untangle.
Tiffany Nelson May 2014
I wake up in the morning questioning the infinite cracks on my bedroom ceiling. There is a crack up there for each time you leave. I ask them if they know the reasons as to why I feel undone. The foundation of the room searches for an answer in its faults only to find that behind the paint lies nothing but rotting wood. I feel naked. A resting foreigner on the bed that I made as I lay fully clothed in a nightgown I can feel settling into my skin. I feel ill. ***** settles on my tongue the same way spit does when your mouth waters for something you long for. Some mornings my body becomes a corset that relies on you to tie the knots and by the afternoon I find myself stranded in tangled knots of indented flesh and exhaustion.

— The End —