i am locked within a cage
of my own making
my hands and feet are ******
from trying to climb these walls
made of my own bones and hatred

i am screaming please don't leave
but by the time the words
make their way up to my mouth
from this prison
only the word
leave
escapes my mouth

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

I am jealous of spiders
Those small, poisonous creatures

They don't care how small they are
Or how weak they are
They fight for their life despite the conditions

They hunt their prey without hesitation
Without pity
Without fear

They can enter any room
They don't need your permission

They all know their purpose
They all fight for their purpose

They catch or become food

They can create their world however they want
No one tells them how to connect their strings

They are clever
That's what makes them deadly
They are small
That's what extends their limits
They are selfish
That's what helps them survive

Their tiny-dark eyes
Those small marbles that extend their vision to places the human eye could never reach

Their infestation of twisted legs
Those agile limbs that move them with surprising speed and balance through any kind of frictional surface

They exist in every corner
Creep through every opening

They could crawl up your skin,
Plant their deadly kiss under the tissues of your outer layers,
Leading you to an agonizing swell of chemicals that tare and torture your nerves and muscles

The aftereffects are as countless as the number of their species

Pain
Nausea
Headics
Paralysis
And if you are lucky enough,
Death

You could have one of these
You could have all of these
They don't care

They are spiders,

And for them

You are a their predator

And their next victim

Okay, I’ll admit it-
Maybe I don’t love you
Because when I saw how his gaucheness made you chortle-
How his mundanity carved your dimples,
I could feel every winged insect inside of me shrivel up and plunge into my deepest cavity.

I know love isn’t self seeking-
But is it so wrong to feel cheated when I once owned the patent to your smile?