Hold me tighter, darling.
My seams have begun to unravel.
One loose thread is all it takes.
I’m afraid I have a dozen.
Please do not pull me.
I cannot move in that direction.
Why are you picking at all
of my undone ends?
I should have known better
than to break apart for you.
You can’t hold me together.
I’ve known this from the start.
I let you break off pieces of me
as I detach from your grasp.
I have my own needle and thread now.
Each piece is being repaired.
A small rag doll I have become
but the stitches are strong and my own.