In the land of silk
goods traded hands-
cotton, ivory, wool, gold, and silver -
down one stretch of land

a down side to this trade
that led to much disarray
was the bandits and disease
that also traveled this way

She crept in through my window sill,
As fair as autumn moonlight, and as sleek as silver silk,
Her eyes they shone like summer rain,
And void they did, of all my pain,
The ruby of her lips, rivaled the roses of the morn,
And the beauty of her face, rivaled the coming of the dawn,
She crept in through my window sill, nothing she did take,
She crept in through my window sill, and my heart she did break.

Had I told the sky
of your wisdom and importance
it would have taken the sun
and clouds and stars and moon
and draped them over you
like a canopy spun of silk.

The water
Moves like
Silk upon
An unmade bed,
Which held
A couple in love
The night before.

The water
Shines like
Blue gold,
Worn by
A recently crowned
Queen.

The water
Sings like
The last
Performance
Of an
Under-appreciated
Musician at the
Bar down
The road.

Do not be sad
when time has betrayed you
because,
dogs have always danced
on the bodies of lions.

Do not think
their dance gives them power,
for dogs stay dogs
and lions stay lions.

Lions die
out of hunger
while dogs eat
lavish meat.

Those ignorant
sleep on silk
while the wise
sleep on dirt.

Yet,
in the end
dogs stay dogs
and lions stay lions.

See.                    I'm.                                
No- ­                     fi-                                   I  
   thi                   ne.                             was
     ng                  I'm.                        up
        is    ­            Go-                   rea-
          wro-          od,                 lly
               ng.      Okay            late.
           I had a snack before I came.
             The.                              I'm
       make.               I'm                Just
up.                          Not         ­         Tired.
Makes.                  Broken                      I    
      ­ Me                                           Don't
           Look.                                 Feel
                   pale.                Well.
                   Yesterday was great
              I just.          I'm            I just
          Had.                Ha-            Like
      A bad.                ppy.               The
Sleep.                                               Style.

These are the threads
Of my web of lies
That I build above your heads
Strenghth ending everyday

My common day lies
Spun like spiders silk
Drifting unbroken in the skies
So plain it stands hidden

Entwined strings of excuses
To form a mask from the world
With a million uses
To fake that I am whole

Because I am the spider
Creeping through the day
Dangling off silk as my web grows wider
Trapping all the flies

I feel myself
crumple and crease
like the folds of a
crushed paper bag.

My skin weighs on me
as I pinch the thickness
of my thighs and sides.

Bruises forming where
skin should be thin,
but has been memorized
by fingers that shake
whenever I cry.

I am not made of silk.