If Only

These thoughts lay knotted and jumbled
in a dark forgotten corridor
of thick restrictive walls,
loud grating noises,
and soft sullen whispers.


The knots are wet,
prickly to the touch -
as knobby fingers
tear haplessly at their
slippery edges.

Elbows knock the walls as ears
strain to hear the whispers,
but their incessant hissing only
occasionally reveals the rounded sounds
of words.

If only this thick rope can be untangled . . .