Knots and Pulls

The needle bites the fabric slow,

a thin white thread catching between fingers,

knots twisting like forgotten words.

I wrestle with stubborn loops—

a tug too hard, a snap too close,

threads tangled in calloused skin.

Each stitch pulls me back to that jacket,

tattered and worn, holding on like memory,

button loose but stubborn to leave.

Fingers bleed quiet, stitching pain,

a looped apology under the dim lamp,

a silent fight in the weave of cloth.

A patchwork heart held together

by knots too tight to unravel,

a fragile mending pulled taut.