Knots

 

They tie their cords of caustic thoughts

around your mind with vice grip tentacles,

squeezing the life out of your creativity,

delighting in their microscopic analysis,

a skilled surgeon with negative scalpels.

 

What a blessing it is when they use their ropes

to slay everything they see as flawed,

doesn’t matter what beauty is there

because strangling summons ecstasy

encouragement doesn’t give them any joy.

 

It is the hospital of life and they own the emergency ward,

far more obsessed with operations

than any attempts to heal,

so come on let’s all give thanks,

pass that lasso of words they use as hangman’s noose.

 

Course we must accept this is a noble cause

since they always call criticism as constructive,

which means it builds their egos

from tearing down other’s pride

while binding hearts so you don’t want to try again.

 

Perhaps we need to have a party

where everyone brings their lariat of complaints,

then we can each take turns stringing up another

until we pass out from the experience,

bringing a state of peace you never get with those assassins.