Knots

My emotions are a tightly wound ball of metal chains.

Each chain tied slowly over years of neglect, stuffed in a drawer.

With each phrase, my heart is violently shoved into a drawer, collecting its knots.

Tighter and tighter, they are wound, until the day comes where I need to sort out this metal mess of emotions in mourning.

With each pull of different chains, my heart bleeds.

"Stop it!" It cries, "Let me be!"

But you gently whisper, "You asked to be let out. This is the way you will be free to be what I crafted you to be. So, let me carry your pain away.