Wednesday, 1 September 2010

Spider.

The garbage can capturing rubbish
So green
Resembling a cage
For the thing inside
Which I see
Which has to be put back
I close my eyes
Waiting
It can crawl upon my nose
It's legs wobbling
Hairy
Many eyes looking
Reminding that all has it's end
That the poisoned shall never choke
If only I could choose
The dirt upon my face
I'd let them bury me for no reason
With no spiders nearby
I feel it threading it's legs
It's needle legs
Against my arm
It's blackness upon my neck
Like a rope
I'm waiting to be hung
With all my body aching
My palms upon the wound
It crawls
It plays with my hair
It's mouth against the back of my head
My eyebrow now his pillow
He rests hapilly as
I eat my heart
The sunken legs in my skin
Making a tattoo
Forever to mark my skin
To shoo away the light
To greet more
So that my skin would be covered
As I'd lay,
So messy
So horrible
With nobody to pick me up
It'd laugh
It's eyes would
I glance again
His legs in the air
His teeth in mind
Crawling
Eyes opened forever
Luring me
To a chamber.

Hiss.

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