Ask and you shall receive

The door will be open to you

But the screws in my throat leave lines and spirals

And the thread on my lips leaves me wishing instead of whistling

Arms are more constricted by vines

so much so i cannot sign

How the bedlam holds me tightly

No requests for help are fine

Sewn shut so that I may be an embarrassment to myself

The door slams

The hand takes

And closed mouths don’t get fed.