"arachnoid" poems - Hello Poetry

thorns lay down in my arachnoid membrane, splintering my scalp at the mere memory of anxiety- splicing and slicing into my brain drawing blood, swirling pools killing me slowly not all at once, not all too quickly, but miserably constant in a stream that never empties poisonous venom.

0

Mar 27, 2016

Mar 27, 2016 at 2:38 AM UTC

e-townsend

I Do Not Have Comfort Tonight

thorns lay down in my arachnoid membrane, splintering my scalp at the mere memory of anxiety- splicing and slicing into my brain drawing blood, swirling pools killing me slowly not all at once, not all too quickly, but miserably constant in a stream that never empties poisonous venom.

11

He's probably got the passion in his sinnew to blow up...something. he's worth being dead. His family says they said. If one day you met him. He'd probably smile at you fast. You'd hate his guts after that. Toward sun he looked onward till his gaze died down inside his throat. He heavied over the hate he's engulfed. The sun hangs lower. The cans weigh down on his neck. The paints scratching. He's got friends though. Theyll write an articulate article. He's just food for dust mites

0

Mar 1, 2015

Mar 1, 2015 at 5:10 PM UTC

Lendonpartain

Arachnoid Suffocating the Emotion

He's probably got the passion in his sinnew to blow up...something. he's worth being dead. His family says they said. If one day you met him. He'd probably smile at you fast. You'd hate his guts after that. Toward sun he looked onward till his gaze died down inside his throat. He heavied over the hate he's engulfed. The sun hangs lower. The cans weigh down on his neck. The paints scratching. He's got friends though. Theyll write an articulate article. He's just food for dust mites

1

I am wary of these arachnoid beasts. How foreign they seem! They are resting now, Curled delicately upon my lap at each folding joint, Looming faithfully. They cling to me, and naturally so. Yet, we are not one entity. They are far too elegant To notice me, their blundering mother. They suckle my blood dispassionately, Yet it is painless, A numb event.

0

Mar 21, 2018

Mar 21, 2018 at 12:08 PM UTC

NatSmith

The Beast At Hand

I am wary of these arachnoid beasts. How foreign they seem! They are resting now, Curled delicately upon my lap at each folding joint, Looming faithfully. They cling to me, and naturally so. Yet, we are not one entity. They are far too elegant To notice me, their blundering mother. They suckle my blood dispassionately, Yet it is painless, A numb event.

12