it’s all projection.
this is why i chose a solitary life
of weaving in the first place.
you can’t trust a single thought
in your head or a word
anyone says.
when it first started,
i had to name them all.
each person.
and the lie.

i succumbed to a deep
psychosis that lasted
approximately three straight
years and ended abruptly
only days ago.
(1.)

they said to line the candles
up and name them:
each lie you told about
them, each hex you cast upon
them, and each way you
reneged a trap only
 later to place it
back.
they said if i could undo each one
I would find my way out.

 

I woke up in a hole
in the middle of the
forest with no recollection
of anything I’d said
or done. they said

Love.

will.

take.

time.

 

one of them threw me a
shovel.