My thoughts have been weaved together
By long-fingered hands
That pluck at loose strings

My emotions have been weaved
Into a front-door welcome mat
… You have so many guests sometimes
That I’m beginning to wear thin

But instead of washing me
When the residue leaves me looking dirty
You continue to warp my beautiful design
And leave me,
Ugly, gnarled,
In knots nobody wishes to entangle

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