Compulsive Chewing

I begin to suck on the edge
of the cotton tapestry blanket,
wound up tight in my hand,
and tear out the threads,
get them stuck in my teeth,
while little taps in time
to the rhythm in my head
keep me humming, all over again.

I did not choose this,
and I wonder why anyone would,
as the flesh slowly unravels
and the picture comes undone
under my tiny, long-nailed fingers,
within the twist of my thin lips,
as I feel the thread give
between my right cuspids
in a rush of relief
from my obsessive gnawing.

I clamp up my mind
intending this time
to be the final one ~
not a thought stray
into your mind -
at least, I keep wishing -
while the last green thread
is gnashed to pulp fibers,
absently made into saliva goo
for lack of any
other expression
given to my consuming
and useless feelings.