My bedraggled
A thinness- Matted
Going through me.
I’m fooling myself,
HELP- me=
This mess-
On a head,
Before i go for the cut.
Don’t let me shut-
Out these feelings
of needing.
HELP- to=
My antennas.
My cries
Are in this.
I can’t do this.
I can’t deal-
With- the feel-
Of knots in my hair.
I curse, I swear.
I center, I ground.
+ still the sound
Goes through-
Every cell.
I want to yell.
+ throw something
-myself .
To the ground.
Mother take my pain.
I don’t want to play
This game of patience today.
My fray
Spiritual sisters
Miss being silky, smooth, manageable.
I can’t deal with the – un-manageable.
It’s grating my head- my mind- my skin.
Without- ease
I have to pretend i am not me.
To breathe.
+ clinically comb you out.
Comb you out.
My 2 extremes
I spent this time writing this
Putting it off
Putting it off
To untangle-
Every angle
While the angel
Holds my hand
+ takes me to a heaven
Where i am knot free.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s