Dewdrops sparkle with spiders' silk
Twinkling like stars in the sky
Sad that all of them have died
Sad that spiders live short lives
Substances seep into my skin
I don't know their ingredients
Smooth age before it sets in
Fill all my gaps with plastic
Pretty nice things are never sweet
Quiet homes thrive on busy streets
White lies kept our hearts in line
White fences hid vicious crimes

Tighten the belt around my waist
Hopefully I suffocate
Before the final hole is made
In the noose on my vanity

Quicken the pace of self decay
Rot like flowers in early May
Diseased; succumb to earthy graves
Be welcomed back from which you came