S: Raveling

The colors of your life are all here.

Shades and tones, properly coordinated –

Tidy on their spools.

We’re ready to weave your Present self.

For now, strands are separated from chaos:

Future-perfect pattern in your mind’s eye.

Your past? Scattered about this workshop.

Moth eaten. Defeated. Incompleted.

Projects started. Abandoned.

Ideas taking shape. Unborn.

Angry cannibalization of memories –

Misremembered on purpose. Torn.

A tarp lies over them now. Out of sight.

“No better than horse blankets and rags.”

But this! These colors! This new plan!

Your new spools really are beautiful and

(I mean that) ready for the rack.

This pattern better represents you.

This time, we’ll get it just right, won’t we?

No pilling. Nicely arranged. No fraying ends.

Just neat and succinctly contained –

With no loose threads.

T: We Just Got a Letter

This leash was kinky before

But now it’s become my noose.

With a breath, call me Whore

Then

Turn around, call me Muse.

(Pick a lane, Silly Goose!)

This is one step away from abuse!

What’s the point of a safe phrase or word

If you still plan to turn this acute obtuse?

Here’s a hint (for your free use):

Time-out.

Sit.

Think.

My shit’s a Tesla

Not an Accord.

(And the next time I say, A Clue! A Clue!

Don’t disrespect me with, Oh boy, Blue Skadoo~!)