Craze driven
   Imperfectly placed
Revised words said yet truth speaking through the veins
  Web of lies tangled in a dishearted brain
  Like a maze
Slip up, trip up, you fall down get up
  Scars eat away at you
    Like a feast
And like a freak you scream and hide
But on the outside you're fine so fine
   Everything is okay as you say
Spinning another thread in your web of lies.

Moving in sync with the others
An unspoken dance of grace
Gasps of breath fogging
Tongues seeking out new territories

Beyond written promises
We spoke a thousand words
In the silence we wrote
Documenting our mutual stories

Weaving a web of secrets
Melting into each other arms
Burned in our memories
This eternal unbreakable flame

Poetry is like spider webs. Each word has so much meaning. A spider prefers to spin its web at night. Maybe this is because thats when they have the most on their minds or when they feel safe.

Each web a beautiful creation. The time it takes to create it and the little appreciation it gets. They say a spider will eat its web when moving on, every poet will eat their words one day.

Cob webs, are webs that have been abandoned and left to die. Our bodies will one day be left to die.

This moment, this one right now, is all we have. We will leave our poetry behind to turn into Cob Webs. Maybe one day a child may stumble across these words and bring them back to life.

Poetry is the most powerful thing we have and we need to give it to everyone. So the next time you see a spider web, appreciate it a little more.

Think of it as, poetry. Something or someone spent a lot of time making it. And put their soul into it. Because what is poetry if not a spiders web in the corner waiting to be realized?

I remember lying there in the greenish sleeping bag,
Staring up at the wooden ceiling with all the dust,
The cobwebs sway in slightest amounts of air,
And falling asleep slowly, the loft so full of must.
This sinking sensation comes over me and I can see
A dark shadow in the other room, it moves across the
Doorway and looks as I call out for someone anyone
And in panic I have a total feeling of doom.

But this is just the beginning, I wake up in beads of sweat,
Is this really my life or dream, have I truly woken up yet...?

This story I hear tell of a man across the halls,
Who would walk toward the other side
At half past 12 at night as my friend recalls,
A dark visage, a shadowy veil, came out
When the daylight would subside.
The story as I recall keeps me up sometimes,
He had no eyes, again I repeat, you could see right
Through his eyes!

I want to untangle this
Web of you all of
You your hooded eyes your
Pursed mouth your
Ebony Eyes that pull me in,
Shatter me like black holes. 
Untangle the web that you 
Have woven in my
Mind unconsciously and 
Im trapped 
Trapped
Tra-p-p-e-d
Flies in a spider
Web I'm cornered,
Helpless but do I really really 
Want to untangle you
I do but i dont i dont i dont
I dont i do dont i do Dont want to
Untangle me from you.
Me and you we're too 
Past gone to
Be saved, or is it just
Me and my fraying strings and 
What is left of my heart maybe 
Just maybe

you tell yourself
that you don't love him
you will not
in any way whatsoever
spend a moment more vying
for his attention
for his affection
or whatever
you call it
the jokes before during after class
how you are afraid to touch him
because
maybe he has some
magical
power
and can feel
that you are dying yearning straining
for a moment in his limelight
to be even a blip
in his timeline
a moment in a lifetime
you wonder if he can feel your love through your glances
when he walks next to you
time prances
a sugar spun web of
friendship
you never thought
a word
could sound so cruel
and bittersweet
like spiderwebs spun
through heart strings.
you know he won't
has said
has scraped his foot awkwardly as you
poured
implied
no spewed
your affections
in a barrage of desperation
of losing
of love
wouldn't it be easier
if you were like him?
able to see the world
the girls who hurt him
you
in a different light?
one that wouldn't
keep you up at night?
maybe
his hurt
is a questions you forgot to ask
you will do it tomorrow
joking before class.
the same patterns
picking away
on your heart strings

We're spinning webs of
Pretentious words
With poison-laced thread.