I am more wool than bones most days, threads more than skin

Tangled, frail, and ready to unravel with one tug.

But I can't unravel quite yet so I knit

With trembling clumsy hands, I knit a sweater that hides my glitching heart and gloves that warm my ever-cold-seeking hands

I make pants that hide the way my legs circle around and a hat to lower over my eyes and cover the overwhelming fear of being seen.

I am wool more than bones

And I have to knit all I am

So that people don't reach

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That one frayed thread

That is capable alone of ending my tries.

I don't let go of them

And I don't get close to people who can knit

They can't see the crossed lines and the failed tries

They can't see how I can't ever make my threads into something worthwhile.

But still once in a while, I creep closer with a weakness I name my heart's

To watch the steady gentle hands tug and link colourful lines

Carefully, softly

With worthy results.

And I stop myself with everything I have

From throwing myself at their hands

And begging with hushed teary words

To please

Fix what I am.