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
**** at me like apres ski, if you please ‘Tis a slippery ***** 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