What’s That From?

I’ve found this little fray in my wrist dip 

It’s red and soft, splintered at the tip 

It tickles the base, at the joint face

I rub my hands together and trip

It’s getting longer as the days progress

I tug softly, as the stitch gets distressed 

I pull too hard, it unravels in yards

Plaiting as my skin starts to undress

It winds its way around me, snakelike

As I constrict under its spiral-grip; tight

I wiggle and squirm, I flip like a worm

Dancing in red under the blue light 

The thread pulls me left and right

I find chest, part lips, realise appetite

I ask “why me”? It whispers quietly

“Because you bit when you shouldn’t bite” 

By Lyric Deep.

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