knots raze you were born with your heart on the wrong side of your chest. i was born without a sense of irony, i confess. where you see joyous perversity, i see only cause for fear. old mouldy teeth, you ain't seen the last of me. i'll twist myself into a tiny tangled mass, and in that matted prison there will form a face to tie to all these reservations. 171104 ... tender_square i close my eyes to meet with god. instead, my belly churns a den of snakes, slithering and twisted. their bodies tangle tighter, pushing on my diaphragm, restricting breath. i take middle finger and jab into xiphoid; i engage the void. tap tap tap. 230407 what's it to you? who go blather from