Eight long years I fear you have been here
Behind the scenes
Do you ever intend to leave?
Overwhelmed
You’ve eight legs to my pair
Nowadays you spin in clear sight
But it wasn’t always like this
You were once a reluctant plunder
And I confess that I often walked into your web
Wiped the silk from my face
And went about my day without so much as a thought
You are the covert cartographer of minds
Is there an area of mine you haven’t mapped?
In your decade long survey
I never did give you planning permission
Suck at me like apres ski, if you please
‘Tis a slippery slope this road
Those pills the doctor prescribes me
Cool you for a time
Then the next day you are resurgent
electric
I’ve put up with you for too long
You’ll never truly be gone
I’ve told myself once, maybe thrice
How the sticky honey of hindsight will beguile you
The silky doubt that cushions you
And turns you into tiramasu
The eggs you have laid, having now hatched
Make me their colony
I feel movements inside
Hear voices day and night
They tell me there’s nothing there
Even as your spawn presses against my temporal lobe
And I forget more and more of what the world was before
Sorry if I am a bore
I can barely hold a conversation
I pray to God that one day you’ll relent
Tire of the climate and
Chase after some skirt seeking happier times
But I’m pregnant with your venom
And always will be
But I refrain from aspiration
It’s been eight years to the day
And I see no sign of change
End