I cannot crochet because to this day, 12 years after initially learning, I still don't know where to put the hook. I think I'd be more lost than ever if I tried to use this yarn

I think I deserve all of the backlash
Agonizing by the phone
I give myself emotional whiplash
When I talk to you I feel at home

Pain is hopefully reciprocated
Not as an argument that boils
But as tears mutually evaporated
By the harmonizing of identical internal pink coils

I think I’m in love and afraid for my life
Invisible bruises and imprints terrifyingly flourish
Did you purposefully invade my subconscious in strife?
When the drop is inevitably experienced how do I not perish?

How do you even count stitches in that...

if you liked posm, you'll love his friend seaslug!

Popped open, uncontained by broken worm bodies
Tiny worm bodies now casualties in a self waged war

I can’t bring myself to finish this blessed book
There’s a fear that as the final chapter draws near
A close will capture that which I hold dear
Between almost every page, each worm voices a thought
I slam it shut and shiver upon reopening it
To find the thoughts once primed now delivered

When hands would wring I’d ask what’s wrong
If my hands would wring I’m scared you’ll see me
Not for the turmoil between digits
But for the boiling of thoughts rigid
Will I be comforted by moss as it grows plentiful?
Could my conflict be quieted by mushrooms bountiful?
My tears belong to the soil

Driving over the mountain I’ll stop to point out the ferns
Listening to songs that painfully triggers
A flame in my palms and winks and flickers
My throat clenches when i want to voice my concerns
Inhibitions continue to wither
Between two like minded givers
Forgive me for my inability to yearn