Caught in a web made of thread spun from criticism and regret,
arachnids leisurely devouring skin from exposed bone,
a life made from those who have chided every step,
no escaping the entanglement,
no shelter from the ones who are meant to render love,
instead only malice is displayed over actions they refuse to forget.

Searching hopelessly for love on abandoned webs,
finding only others broken who were lost in translation,
the foul scent of decaying bodies ripped apart,
giving their lives to those who broke them down,
rotting skeletons of memories shattered on cobwebs undusted,
coming alive and putting faith in others broken who can be trusted.