we share the same hair color (i think).
is it weird that we remind me of hair?
entwined in each other, knots and twisted,
braided and tied but then pried apart
because i couldn’t breathe from how
enmeshed you were around my neck and
my head was aching from all the pressure
pressing behind my eyelids as your needles
brought pricks of tears to my eyes and
i tore you off of me. there was blood, too.
didn’t it hurt when we tried to unsnarl
ourselves from the other. it hurt more
to try and let each other go (i think), and so
here we are again, coiled like springs in each
other, like a mass of color, brown and black,
indistinguishable from the other, all mingled
together to form a different, albeit confusing,
twisted mess. kinks and curls and straight and
crooked. it would still hurt to try and cut ourselves
apart. i don’t know where you end and i begin.
people may (or will) look at us in disgust, but
i know that, despite us being pulled and twisted
this way and that, tied back so the other can breathe,
i’ll never let go of you. sure, i’ll try to brush us
out every once in a while, though i’ll also be the
one to pull taut what we’ve straightened out
already. but, (i think) we’re also the knot tied in
the red yarn, too stubborn to be cut by fate,
so we defy them, hanging on by wick’s end,
until i burn both of us out.