Deceiving. Delicate. Fragile.
Webs woven in the back of my mind.
There are spiders lusting for pain.
My thoughts become entangled, entwined,
trapped. And then unravel like a thread.
Lifeless and limp, they get spun again
into new webs, multiplying until they
line my skull. Much like a wallpaper; So old
and decayed, yet constantly getting restored.