"Knitted"

I pulled on a single thread of a knitted sweater,

to watch it grow—to watch it unwind.

As if there was something captivating,

about the thread’s fraying hands.

I looked at your startled face—

Your eyes gleaming—

At my fingers encasing the thread,

I blinked.

And as I did,

I motioned for your hand to grasp the thread.

The wool was urging you—I was urging you.

Yet you shuddered.

Like the unraveling of a knitted sweater,

you’ve withered—you’ve weakened.

As you inched further from my outstretched hand,

I pulled it back to me,

the red string now,

more noticeable than the white—

I grasped the red string—

And tugged it hard—

Until it broke.

All that was left,

was the unraveled

knitted sweater,

and an empty seat.