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s 3d
I’ll needle a thread around your heart,
plunge it through mine,
and tie the knot.
Copyright CoffeetoTheorems
Pyrrha 7d
Carefully the needle penetrates into my skin
With every new puncture the thread follows along

In and out again and again
Till it reaches the end and finally
A harsh pull, a few tugs

Then the string is snipped free at last
Its been completely sewn shut

Only after you closed me up
Did you ask me how my day was
How I was feeling

But what could I say
With my mouth sewn shut?
V Exeter Aug 5
Your thread on a spool:
life, as it unwinds you.
Unwinding in a wily way,
coming undone,
you've run so fast from your mistakes,
the only planet you'll ever rough with your feet,
is wet: totally quenched with your gasoline --
you've run this path so fucking fast,
you're running on ankles and you're igniting
a prophesied scorched earth with your spark
and your chronically weeping heart.
You're thread on the spool.
Life will unwind you.
Smile. Smile.
and take it in the face.
Dan Beyer Jul 13
Beneath the surface looms an itch
So my skin I begin to stitch
Ribbon gleaming red
My blood becomes the thread
Veins run the looping bow
pretty, but not for show

The irony
I find
Is that my skin is thick
golden threads of sun,
weave a flashy evening dress;
nature wears it pleased!
Woke up this morning
How am I going to face this day.
With this pain in my legs
No cure
No pity
Told at the hospital can't do an operation
Just  have to put up with the misery of sore legs.
ashley marie Jun 24
sometimes i like to thread a pin through my skin. it usually doesn't hurt because i ignore the pain. i sew my skin with the pin and when i pull it away the emotions lingering underneath leak out. like unstitching a stitch which you thought could be fixed. i don't do it to hurt myself i just do it to breathe. sometimes friends will ask me about it i don't know what to say because its hard to explain the patterns of the stitching and the rashes of the itching. its just a blister im not lying. my body is bubbling on the verge of bursting from exhaustion of repeated motions and if that isn't proof that im ok idontknowwhatis.
i used to vent my emotions without saying a word.
Dipti Dhakul Jun 19
My wardrobe is time machine,
freaked up just like me,
in my pains,
in my sadness,
on the paths full of
shadows & lessons,
through the valley's
of cafe to lounge,
sittin' down for casual
or business meet,
Never gonna wait,
Never gonna hold me back,
will keep travelin'
from brown to trolley bags,
packed up and walked past,
twisting yet missing
the millennials trend.
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days
When their life was ahead of them, the future was anything and everything, they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion, running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair, adventure ahead, hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, was more exciting than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride frays at the details
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy, to the life they made, every one of us
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to be aware of the importance of
Moments we'll wish we listened to them about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries, visiting at friends, at enemies, joining with soul-mates future, some cut away, some ripped from the tapestries to soon before they could weave their own
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made, and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded
About how every slipping memories never like the moment you made it
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the voice about how much you hate what your life become.

because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
KM Hanslik Apr 14
You're running numbers in your head, but
the thread counts don't match all the things you tend
to spit out when numbers fail your tests,
like how I tell you we're all just floating
here, and you tell me maybe I should go
find someone else to pass time with, because if this all has no meaning anyway, then why
should I care what we do together in the dark? Only I lie;
I crave this like I'm dying and I need to feel
something now before it's gone, and we
are just molecules floating through time, without reason
to aim for any particular thing;
I like to pass time with you. It makes breathing
easier. It makes my lungs
lighter and I like to tally up our thread counts
If we are still breathing when
the sun comes up, remind me
to add your name to the list of people I would scour the earth for and plunge
my existence through the darkest of realities to give you
a piece of the beautiful things
that escape your head when you need
them most. Remind me,
how much time do we have left?
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