There are spider webs
In my bathroom
Over the tank
Under the sink

They are so old and tangled
Indeed, a little tough to handle

But they look more at home
Compared to my pool of shedding hair
Going down the drain
Every day, a little by little

And somehow when I look at that
And then I glance at the webs
I can’t help but wonder
Who really belongs here

Who really has more of a purpose?
Is it their space or mine?
Or are we all just invited
To exist and exit?