Wound Up and Wondering

by Sally Young

art by Rachel Roncka

I wish I could crochet.

Make something beautiful of this balled up thread of me.

Arrange myself graceful

Understand, untangle

What’s wrapped around my throat

What makes me immobile.

But I’m unfocused:

Instead I will wander

Through whirls of wind and forest green

Weave myself among the stars

You know, hook in hand

I’m too clammy

To pull the ends and twist the thread

Make it better than this

Mangled mess in my head

My fingers tremble instead.

Twister, take me:

On the exhale there’s

An indigo storm in the bitter cold

And I’m swept beyond my own breath

God, this thread is too thick

To even force through brittle fingers

It’s knotted and rainbow and I don’t know how to move it

So I stare:

To pull from the center would knot me up even more

I’d destroy everything in desperation

What am I supposed to do, then?

How to unravel me?

16 came and went

With it my innocence

Oh, confidence

Come back and burn me red

I wish I could forget.

Everything wrapped up tight in this melodramatic skein

Claw at the ends but they’re all blurred

-Sometimes I think I could rip apart a cloud like cotton-

Rotten and frayed and molded green

My edges are raw.