I am like a golden orb weaver
Tall and rather lanky
Thin and strong
Fierce bite if you let it get to that
Weaving my webs hoping to attract the things i want most (for the orb weaver, probably food)
But for me
The person i can simply refer to as paradise
No fear
Only Anxiety over physical contact
The very thought of that possibility stretching my mind to encompass a new thing
Hope
Oh how I've missed that
Painful silence broken by whispers asking if I'm okay and if i can hold back the panic attack long enough for a kiss
We'll see, my beautiful paradise
Because after all this time i still don't think i can hold anything back from from the best listener i have come across in ages
And I'm afraid I'm going to drive you away with the relivings of painful memories
Thank you for staying this long to try to help the mess i am
My webs have started to degrade in quality as i starve myself endlessly of water
But you must see something fine in them
To go near them to look, and touch, but never get stuck as you seem to know how to play into the non sticking threads
I hope you can manage to get to the middle where I'm sitting listening and feeling the thrum thrum thrum of the wind blowing into my low quality web making it sound like something much more sinister
I never know how to end these poems