i hold this in my mind.
after so long
i found the string;
the one i pulled
which broke apart
the pattern.
i fumbled for it
for sometime,
sitting amidst a pile
of threads
hoping and praying
i might find the end –
that i might find
the beginning.
now,
i can start to
reconstruct,
to interlace the threads
and weave a new
pattern.
i want to weave you,
your life,
into this.
to entwine us.
how do i ask?
i have tried.
i have.
the fibers of this string
are so worn now.
they are delicate.
i am delicate.
a body hardened
and a mind so sharp,
but my heart,
…my heart.
i have started
the pattern,
i have reached out my hand,
offering you the thread
so we can
weave together.
but i stop,
i have seen this,
i have felt
this.
i withdraw.
i weave through my heart
and mine alone.
i need to knit this
for me,
just for me now.