Are you a spider, traipsing around your web? Like an acrobat,
you swing from fly to fly, trapping them further. Your gossamer silk
Surrounds them, confines them, suffocates them, but you, black widow,
Deliver the killing blow. Your bite is not accompanied by a bark
as you sink your fangs into your victims like a thirsty vampire.
Drain them, empty them, free them of life, dear spider.
For it is your nature, your purpose, and your divine duty to devour.
Oh, spider, I am your devotee, your destitute follower, your dying breath.
I am your last hope of redemption in this dying, this killing, this ending.
Will you be redeemed in the end? Only I, the fly, decide.

My mother is a spider.
Carefully crafted webs fill my childhood home.
With great care, she weaves day and night,
trapping her family inside.
We struggle but only doom ourselves further.
I am a fly,
buzzing as I wrap myself in her silken strands.
My sister is a butterfly,
flapping her wings as the webbing pulls off her beautiful scales.
My brothers are bees
who once sought bright flowers and hives of others like them.
My father is a moth,
guided to the web’s shimmering light.
Now, we all lie still, drained of life,
slowly being consumed by the weaver.

There's a spider in my bathroom, watching everything I do.

                    It watches me comb my hair, it watches me make poo.

He watches me in the shower, something like a human in a zoo.

                   He's even watching me now, as I write this note to you.

And you just might be thinking, oh wow, that's kinda cute.

           But the thing is that you aren't aware of Peter for his truth.

We've been in here for a week...
                                                                                      or a month...

                                                   maybe 2?

I've been trapped in here with Peter
                                                                   and I don't know what to do.

A noisy impatient fly
Humming by my ear like the fluorescent light overhead
Near imperceptible, but in the silence, grating
As it sung out, buzz, buzz, buzz, out of itself,
Always droning, never a pause in the incessant
Static.

And you, O my soul, where you sit,
Trapped in a cocoon of web, never quite alone
But immovably stagnant, perhaps once learning, chasing, dancing, Seeking that elusive something,
Till exhausted by the endless journey, only ever wishing
For a home
That you never found, but barely existing you continue, O my soul.

here i am sat in the windowsill
of a person's office while they're working

if i am slow enough, and quiet enough
maybe i will be able to get by
but i am so lost and they look so intelligent
i want to ask them for directions back outside.

the tree in the window, a foul reminder of where i was before
all this happened.
i stare at it, and it stares back at me with a strange sense of distant
sympathy, the tree.

the human at their wooden desk
with machines whirring and fans spinning
takes notice of me here.

and oh, my woes,
i shall spill them on this windowsill
and lament for a life short lived.
these days, a spider is no short of 8 steps toward death
after seconds of being born.

but i am old, and i have lived
a great three months of my life.
somewhere between half or a quarter of my lifespan.
middle age has been kind to me, i am plump and i am intelligent.

my webs will serve as a story for the others to see
a warning for them to read that this human is
like the others i have heard of,
cruel.

but, they stand up, and they speak to me.
they call me friendly. they inspect me.
i feel rather embarrassed, so i try to hide behind the blinds
but the human opens them, and their big eyes peer into all eight of mine.
i try to escape but i'm frozen to the windowsill.
"this is it", i begin to say my final speech. my family is somewhere outside, resting, while i am face to face with death.

and the human stares at me, and speaks to me
like the giant furry thing with three legs that they called 'cat',
and for a moment that at first felt fleeting, and soon became a warmth, i felt... loved.

"friendly little intruder! you shouldn't be here, you'll starve."
they say with their sing-songy voice.
they skitter out, much like i move myself in the windowsill.
i try to find a means to hide, or a bug to eat. a place to make a web, and hope that i am scary enough for them to leave me alone.

but they return, and they place a dome over my head.
at first, i am fearful. they are so much bigger than i,
and i have heard the stories.
but, the shoe that they had brought sits idly. it is not an expectation, but a last resort.
and i peer into the dome, and see caring, gentle eyes distorted through plastic peering back at me.
a smile on their face, a shaking to their breath.
we're both scared, but for different reasons.

i want to ask them: why? why do you help me and why are you scared? i cannot hurt you.
they whisper that they don't want to hurt /me/.

and then it all feels so fleeting, from that point on.
i watch their nurturing gaze through the lens, before it is lifted above my head.
this time, i freeze, but not out of fear. we are working together to go back outside.

i am introduced to a small plastic wrapper of something too big and too foreign for me to understand,
but, what i did understand, is that there is my way out of this windowsill.
so i crawl on it, and the human puts me in their little plastic dome
a lid with freshly pierced holes for breathing comes down over it, trapping me inside for my brief ride to the outdoors.

when the big front door opens,
i wonder if i could show my gratitude.
so i linger a while, and i stare at the human who stares back at me with a patient smile.
i wiggle my my chelicerae, cleaning them with my fangs to show content.
the human recognizes it.

i have never felt safer, in these few seconds, than with this human and this mystery plastic out on the concrete of their porch.
"you will have a much easier, and better time out here, little spider friend!" they beam, and i cannot help but hesitate going home.

because what is one more day and night in the windowsill
of a friendly human and their plastic domes, and cheerful eyes?
there is no harm in staying, when they will not **** me.
so i think i will invite my friends, next time.

Under the moon's soft, silvery glow,
A white spider weaves its porcelain thread,
Amidst lavender blooms that gently sway,
In the night's tender breath, delicately spread.

Elegant limbs trace a whispered dance,
Across petals that dream of the Lethe's serene flow,
A river of forgetting, where old sorrows fade,
Yet here, in this garden, memories gently grow.

Each movement is a testament to nature's grace,
In the lavender's embrace, a tranquil romance,
Where time pauses, and the heart finds rest,
As the white spider spins its eternal trance.

© fey (20/07/24)

I've been caught
In a spider's web
Guilty as charged

you
you dared tell a lie at
the very end
of each and every verse
that snapped out
of that flaming mouth
of yours.

I felt the guilt
of not quenching
your eternal thirst.

spinner of magmatic threads,
supine in your cocoon of lies.
weaver,
deceiver,
you told yourself the same lies
that entangle me in the susurrations
of your feminine death rattle.

I felt the weight
of not quenching
your ever burning thirst.

weaver,
deceiver.
remembered silken fingers
crisscrossing the empty
spaces between my heavy
heartbeats.

I felt the vibration
of failing to spot
that beautiful web you've spun.

believer,
deceiver,
weaver of all the lies
I needed to hear.

tell me,
are you content with being
all alone in your widow's web?

Hard to believe that we used to know each other,
Your mom knew my mom , you were a angel with feathers,
Wishing I could tell you so much in this crazy reality,
But I feel , that one day I could steal a piece of, the heart that,
I deserved, I've loved you since first grade,
If I gave you my love would you stay?
Mold me , console me , program me to be, your one and only,
I hope one day , we could make memories,
I'll be with you til we're both 90,
Find out my secret, I could be , your savior in this life,
Call me your tiger , we'll fly in the city,
In city lights you look pretty,
As complicated, as we are , you're my star,
I'd rather be with you MJ,
I wanna be your superman, or Shazam,
Let me be the one to take you by the hand,
I'm Glad I told that I'm Spider-Man.