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"spiderweb" poems
A musical trance seance under control by the hand of a shadow A "Du hast" to a "Loco" To a "beautiful people" A fraction of symphony, Sent by the gods of rock Spiderweb rooms an corridor covered with the entrance to darkness set in place with danger light's, Strobe lights, an a fog machine set on auto A haunted feel to a shack left cold an abandoned. Equipped with superior beings and extended solo's of 6 string guitar's along with drum's and distorted bass guitar, setting the rhythm for our soul's,Feeding threw 4 large kickers. This shadow was me Venom Decorated in crow face paint, Along with black attire to match my attitude People came and went and came again Supporting my and there craving for sublime sound But one, the one, my goddess, my angel of death came to my dwelling, she came with a message To indulge in my love But also to give me a message of misery To break me free of this chaotic world i was fixed in, with a bite to my fingertip the purified pressure was on She wore the same colors as I Only more dragged inline's More pain, More beauty than she could see I stared into her crystal corroded bloodshot eyes I seen deep within herself I saw pain, I saw hate for her fire, I saw hate from others I had seen everything and nothing I arose from my slumber to meet her in the darkness or mothers sleep To give mother a great vision, a great dream and it was this My angel of death, Meeting face to face, Eye to misery, Cure to disease, Beauty to ugly. The words rolled off her tongue like the greatest embrace to a lover Her words were sweet and seductive Sprinkled with tears of a suicidal mind and a scarred wrist. Then in a perfect moment are perfect tender love met with crying eyes and black lipstick. Within that moment i ingested her misery I took it and gave her what she deserved Beauty After the release of this lover's choice We met vision and from there i seen the truth I could never release her from this insanity Only pamper or even embrace it This timeless motion of misery will never stop ticking in my heart Not till it expires!
0
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
The misery of an angel
A musical trance seance under control by the hand of a shadow A "Du hast" to a "Loco" To a "beautiful people" A fraction of symphony, Sent by the gods of rock Spiderweb rooms an corridor covered with the entrance to darkness set in place with danger light's, Strobe lights, an a fog machine set on auto A haunted feel to a shack left cold an abandoned. Equipped with superior beings and extended solo's of 6 string guitar's along with drum's and distorted bass guitar, setting the rhythm for our soul's,Feeding threw 4 large kickers. This shadow was me Venom Decorated in crow face paint, Along with black attire to match my attitude People came and went and came again Supporting my and there craving for sublime sound But one, the one, my goddess, my angel of death came to my dwelling, she came with a message To indulge in my love But also to give me a message of misery To break me free of this chaotic world i was fixed in, with a bite to my fingertip the purified pressure was on She wore the same colors as I Only more dragged inline's More pain, More beauty than she could see I stared into her crystal corroded bloodshot eyes I seen deep within herself I saw pain, I saw hate for her fire, I saw hate from others I had seen everything and nothing I arose from my slumber to meet her in the darkness or mothers sleep To give mother a great vision, a great dream and it was this My angel of death, Meeting face to face, Eye to misery, Cure to disease, Beauty to ugly. The words rolled off her tongue like the greatest embrace to a lover Her words were sweet and seductive Sprinkled with tears of a suicidal mind and a scarred wrist. Then in a perfect moment are perfect tender love met with crying eyes and black lipstick. Within that moment i ingested her misery I took it and gave her what she deserved Beauty After the release of this lover's choice We met vision and from there i seen the truth I could never release her from this insanity Only pamper or even embrace it This timeless motion of misery will never stop ticking in my heart Not till it expires!
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38
Love is like driftwood coming and going with the tide Love is a hurt animal breaking the quiet of the night Love is like smoke through a spiderweb hard to hold onto Love is pleasure, love is pain like sunshine and rain.
0
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 1:53 PM UTC
Smoke through a spiderweb
******* in you nose can do that, This is the rosebush, the fuschia, the striding spiderweb of summer. Your trees from the ocean and sky, and sepals turned sences. A spindle-spinning wheel, turning sunflowers to liquid honey, yum - yum - yum ! Oh the tastes of nature, hidden in burrow holes, with small mice chittering their teeth, through chestnut temples! A crucified sunflower, soft-spoken ochre, the pumpkins turning fields to dust and growing seeds of castles. Three blades of grass in tasseled soil. Three green-squash faces among the fields burgundy, growing eyeballs. Viola splashes wave, Palo Santo fragrance, Filling the nostrils with Happiness! Day-to-day ecstatic twirls Twists and twirls, a steep staircase to the waterfall's epicenter. The soul of the falls tumbling across the sealed creek, oiled with the feathers of soils. The queen of frozen loganberries gazes with approval, watching seperate streams congeal, spiral, and form starry nights beneath the sky. Lime scent comforting the ☀ of rivers! Written by: Lotus and Simon
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May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 4:16 PM UTC
Descending Thistle
deep in the forest green and brown; and yellow of the sun between the trees a spiderweb traps morning dew but nobody’s home a fly buzzes- carefully below the web without threat dew struggles to let go and gravity calls for: a spiderweb with a fly
0
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
a spiderweb and a fly
Paths have been laid    far and short    narrow and wide    coarse and moist    brown from dirt    gray with asphalt. Spiders lurk and creep about    legs poised and fangs ready    craving another injection    to feast just a little    further, just a little       longer. We are the prey they seek    stuck in their strands    reaching everywhere we walk    catching us as we tumble and fall    not for comfort nor salvation    just the cold strings of wrapture    before the color of blood       the color of life    is taken from us.
0
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Spiderweb
I am a sculpture Of life' beautiful scars Frightening when viewed too close Perhaps better glimpsed at from afar Twisting wounds Healed over scratches The heart entombed by loves hand Blood covered latches Oh masterpiece Of  intentional cuts and scrapes Purple raised blue bruises Hidden carefully from the world   I employ delicate spiderweb curtains And my sleight of hand illusion's It is only the bearer who understands Where the deepest wounds are hidden Bitter tears in a deep bottomless chasm The unforgettable kiss of affections contusions    These shadows must never be loosened Forever restrained even by deception Guarded by spiderweb curtains And sleight of hand illusion's All Rights Reserved@ Tammy M. Darby  Jan.13, 2013
0
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
Spider web curtains and Illusions
/                           beelzebub *(given employs the spider a posteriori and spiderweb a priori, and then back into a bicemeral reverse psyche-analogy - the id est contra the id erat - but there is no latin revival - given that the latin encoding has been translated into a.i. algorithms... forget putting the pandora into a box into a box into a box, into an etc. or what is a russian cultural artefact... forget it... a black fly would not take upon itself to make a dustbin, a ******* maggoty brothel, like a green bottle fly might... black flies have character, style... they're the ones that take to tango, with spider architecture, akin to the theological spider analogy about an ad infinitum a priori argument)*:    a bit like watching a black fly - "washing" itself - rubbing it's front limbs together, "attempting" to start a fire...       god, those awful green bottle hypers -   with maggot excesses - in a potential well expressed into practice - black flies?      i can entertain them - like i might entertain spiders that do not require aquariums - the non-exotica types... so i sometimes find myself rubbing my hands together, like a catholic amounting to an altruistic prayer symbolism... so kommen faust,   so kommen faust,                    so ist pseudo-faust - or rather:    england?              deutschland jr. america?               deutschland sr. and if that wasn't the case?     oh me, little old slavic                     babuшka... i still can't explain rubbing my hands together, like a black fly might...       keeping standards of where to take a maggoty dump's worth of procreation value... black flies? compared to the others? the priests of the whole spectrum...      i sometimes wish they were red,    so i could call them: the cardinals... alas...    not to be, god said otherwise... but i can fathom the priesthood, like i can fathom -    an aspiration of a sleeping samurai, devoid of the zodiac delusion,    encouraged to make chiromancy initiatives                         (readings) to alleviate, ******** monotheism.
0
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
beelzebub (with revision)
/                           beelzebub *(given employs the spider a posteriori and spiderweb a priori, and then back into a bicemeral reverse psyche-analogy - the id est contra the id erat - but there is no latin revival - given that the latin encoding has been translated into a.i. algorithms... forget putting the pandora into a box into a box into a box, into an etc. or what is a russian cultural artefact... forget it... a black fly would not take upon itself to make a dustbin, a ******* maggoty brothel, like a green bottle fly might... black flies have character, style... they're the ones that take to tango, with spider architecture, akin to the theological spider analogy about an ad infinitum a priori argument)*:    a bit like watching a black fly - "washing" itself - rubbing it's front limbs together, "attempting" to start a fire...       god, those awful green bottle hypers -   with maggot excesses - in a potential well expressed into practice - black flies?      i can entertain them - like i might entertain spiders that do not require aquariums - the non-exotica types... so i sometimes find myself rubbing my hands together, like a catholic amounting to an altruistic prayer symbolism... so kommen faust,   so kommen faust,                    so ist pseudo-faust - or rather:    england?              deutschland jr. america?               deutschland sr. and if that wasn't the case?     oh me, little old slavic                     babuшka... i still can't explain rubbing my hands together, like a black fly might...       keeping standards of where to take a maggoty dump's worth of procreation value... black flies? compared to the others? the priests of the whole spectrum...      i sometimes wish they were red,    so i could call them: the cardinals... alas...    not to be, god said otherwise... but i can fathom the priesthood, like i can fathom -    an aspiration of a sleeping samurai, devoid of the zodiac delusion,    encouraged to make chiromancy initiatives                         (readings) to alleviate, ******** monotheism.
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75
our coolest babysitter lit a long joint and drove us to church in her well worn '87 oldsmobile with chipped gold paint a drooping side mirror and a tape player that smelled like stale london gin mothballs and a sunset butterfly heart at the same time it had a deep ocean green calcite mandala dancing from the windshield mirror and a steal-your-face tattooed on the back glass she used to blare brit-pop trying to make the speakers bleed that day when they finally oozed she swerved us left through the other lane and sunday morning fog to cut a jagged path through thick woods and into an oak tree with a soundtrack of slow motion oasis and screeching tires i clammored to the backseat to block the window glass from your beautiful angelic blonde head as dew sprayed into the vacancy from the ditch and when i pulled the seatbelt spiderweb out of your mouth and lifted you out of the car i was standing barefoot in a cluster of bright red sumac next to an ant hill pile of twisted steaming metal and you were dripping blood from your eye and knees asking me if we'd be late for sunday school but you were awake and trying to smile so we followed the powerlines back to the main road holding hands dizzy and sweating worried no one would ever find us limping while the springtime songbirds held their tongues for us but when the hot ringing in my ears finally stopped the sirens grew loud and close and the birds too began their wet lipped eulogy sometimes i think about missing church that day when the weather's bad on nights like last night sometimes i remember our babysitter when the fog rolls in over the road in the morning i wonder if she still gets high on the good stuff while she drives or if she's just a treehugger
0
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
seatbelt spiderweb
our coolest babysitter lit a long joint and drove us to church in her well worn '87 oldsmobile with chipped gold paint a drooping side mirror and a tape player that smelled like stale london gin mothballs and a sunset butterfly heart at the same time it had a deep ocean green calcite mandala dancing from the windshield mirror and a steal-your-face tattooed on the back glass she used to blare brit-pop trying to make the speakers bleed that day when they finally oozed she swerved us left through the other lane and sunday morning fog to cut a jagged path through thick woods and into an oak tree with a soundtrack of slow motion oasis and screeching tires i clammored to the backseat to block the window glass from your beautiful angelic blonde head as dew sprayed into the vacancy from the ditch and when i pulled the seatbelt spiderweb out of your mouth and lifted you out of the car i was standing barefoot in a cluster of bright red sumac next to an ant hill pile of twisted steaming metal and you were dripping blood from your eye and knees asking me if we'd be late for sunday school but you were awake and trying to smile so we followed the powerlines back to the main road holding hands dizzy and sweating worried no one would ever find us limping while the springtime songbirds held their tongues for us but when the hot ringing in my ears finally stopped the sirens grew loud and close and the birds too began their wet lipped eulogy sometimes i think about missing church that day when the weather's bad on nights like last night sometimes i remember our babysitter when the fog rolls in over the road in the morning i wonder if she still gets high on the good stuff while she drives or if she's just a treehugger
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46
Creaming leaves, dripping off her spiderweb branches as we eat dinner under the mustard sun, I feel her nervous as I eat slowly, she glances at my spiderweb branches and grabs my web. She spins her prey in my web and moves it slowly down, among her roots, where I feel gnarled and leafless. My autumn colors have vanished in her winter frozen stems, frozen in time, I stare into her mustard reflected eyes.
0
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Mustard
Black spiderweb lashes Drifting down Red hashed vessels Hidden from crowds Pulsing lights Heartbeat sounds Arms and soul moving Rhythm that pounds Hands are grabbing Wanting more The soul says free me Let me soar It's about the beat The ups and the downs Feel the music Hear the sound Not just the sound The hammering beat The vibrating floor The people heat The sweat The pain The tears The rain The heat, hot liquid Dripping through veins New life given To soulless names Nameless faces Passing through crowds The beat is all that matters now The beat, the heat. The bounce, the crowd They all become one, somehow You grind, you bend, you sit, you stand You run the heat Then you die with the band
0
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
Spiderweb Lashes
how does a dreamcatcher know which dreams to catch? what if it swallows the good ones and sneaks them off to another reality? what if it holds the bad hostage to share at the most dreadful time? what is time to a dream? but just look at how it twists and ties itself in knots so beautifully a community of individuality cinching simplicity together to form brilliance a spiderweb of spirit trapped between threads strung tight like the ties of fate showing me reality far beyond what we blindly see inspiration appreciation absorbing the vibes reflecting off questions of whether a second is time to a dream? unrecognized reality mind outside of body sensory overload a breath of fresh light a taste of foreign thoughts the touch of a music note and a vision of love trickling quiet tears down the face of time...to a dream truth can dance on the edge of reality so when i wake up screaming open my eyes and see my mind momentarily remains tangled in a realm of reality once removed feathers floating softly through worlds yet to be unfurled but shadows through breezy windows left ajar blow my thoughts back to now and the sounds and sliences and the colors and expressions of my mind are altered by a bombardment of influences out of control reality can be difficult to embrace now and again we must escape to a dream to contemplate the impossibly intertwined strings of eternity that spiral through and through tossing and turning new leaves as the seasons cycle time remains immeasurable lest by our mere thoughts and ideas so we create a geometrically stunning display of unspoken hope to catch a dream and it hangs by the window and if the truth teetering on a tightrope between worlds could speak it would tell of endless possible imagination where dreams are reality and there is no such thing as time
0
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
catch me
how does a dreamcatcher know which dreams to catch? what if it swallows the good ones and sneaks them off to another reality? what if it holds the bad hostage to share at the most dreadful time? what is time to a dream? but just look at how it twists and ties itself in knots so beautifully a community of individuality cinching simplicity together to form brilliance a spiderweb of spirit trapped between threads strung tight like the ties of fate showing me reality far beyond what we blindly see inspiration appreciation absorbing the vibes reflecting off questions of whether a second is time to a dream? unrecognized reality mind outside of body sensory overload a breath of fresh light a taste of foreign thoughts the touch of a music note and a vision of love trickling quiet tears down the face of time...to a dream truth can dance on the edge of reality so when i wake up screaming open my eyes and see my mind momentarily remains tangled in a realm of reality once removed feathers floating softly through worlds yet to be unfurled but shadows through breezy windows left ajar blow my thoughts back to now and the sounds and sliences and the colors and expressions of my mind are altered by a bombardment of influences out of control reality can be difficult to embrace now and again we must escape to a dream to contemplate the impossibly intertwined strings of eternity that spiral through and through tossing and turning new leaves as the seasons cycle time remains immeasurable lest by our mere thoughts and ideas so we create a geometrically stunning display of unspoken hope to catch a dream and it hangs by the window and if the truth teetering on a tightrope between worlds could speak it would tell of endless possible imagination where dreams are reality and there is no such thing as time
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114
My girlfriend was so pretty And normal as could be But then something horrible happened And changed her entirely One day she was sipping coffee A spider fell into her cup It was too late when she gagged And realized she had swallowed the spider up The next morning when she woke up And scratched her sleepy head She discovered that overnight she had grown Eight spider legs and a giant spider head She screamed as she crawled out the door And shrieked when she looked into the mirror Her spider senses tickled and twitched And made my poor girlfriend quiver Her life has never been the same Being half a spider and half a lady At first I wasn't sure I could continue dating her I mean, just imagine starting a family and having a spider baby! Sometimes I think and wonder What to do with our lives Normal is seeing your girlfriend shopping Not chilling upside down from the ceiling watching Desperate Housewives Sometimes its quite funny To see her browsing at a store Where she’d usually buy a pair of shoes Now she’d have to buy three pairs more When I couldn’t take her shopping And tried to run off with the guys She spun her spiderweb and caught me And took me by surprise I’m so sick of her spider antics I really wish we were done At first she was a lot of nice things But now my spider girlfriend is no longer fun I took her out to dinner And the only thing she ate Was a plate of fried houseflies And a glass of lemonade When I tried to hug her Her eight legs wrapped me tight They gave me such a shock Eight legs were such a hideous sight! I couldn't take it anymore I broke it off with her and made her understand But now I really regret my thoughtless decision Because now my girlfriend is dating Spiderman.
0
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
My Girlfriend Turned into a Spider
My girlfriend was so pretty And normal as could be But then something horrible happened And changed her entirely One day she was sipping coffee A spider fell into her cup It was too late when she gagged And realized she had swallowed the spider up The next morning when she woke up And scratched her sleepy head She discovered that overnight she had grown Eight spider legs and a giant spider head She screamed as she crawled out the door And shrieked when she looked into the mirror Her spider senses tickled and twitched And made my poor girlfriend quiver Her life has never been the same Being half a spider and half a lady At first I wasn't sure I could continue dating her I mean, just imagine starting a family and having a spider baby! Sometimes I think and wonder What to do with our lives Normal is seeing your girlfriend shopping Not chilling upside down from the ceiling watching Desperate Housewives Sometimes its quite funny To see her browsing at a store Where she’d usually buy a pair of shoes Now she’d have to buy three pairs more When I couldn’t take her shopping And tried to run off with the guys She spun her spiderweb and caught me And took me by surprise I’m so sick of her spider antics I really wish we were done At first she was a lot of nice things But now my spider girlfriend is no longer fun I took her out to dinner And the only thing she ate Was a plate of fried houseflies And a glass of lemonade When I tried to hug her Her eight legs wrapped me tight They gave me such a shock Eight legs were such a hideous sight! I couldn't take it anymore I broke it off with her and made her understand But now I really regret my thoughtless decision Because now my girlfriend is dating Spiderman.
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48
Muck bit her ivory nightgown, as if earth hungering after her...the delicate collapse of a napkin,she. Hours poured atop her head, her shaggy, silvery mane suspended--its reluctant bounce captured at midpoint...as a spiderweb under ultraviolet light. Desert sands lost in contemplation, reminiscent of her flesh--divulge her core as she sleeps in a fetal position. Her body spasms awkwardly...its will visibly slowed from initial motion. As the paralysis experienced by prey amid the astral annals of nightmares. She'll rise into that shine, wonder at the nightmare's symbology...talk to her garden--whilst thinking of her time to come. Silkworm breached the parcel of time, its cocooned inertia coarsed through the opalescent eye of God to Godhood. Of time's ruination redeemed in a solitary work...cupped airless the unbridled form of a trapezist spent itself. Opened and closed somersaults atripped a piece of said space... nothingness regenerated to move, to take step of itself. A self-argumentative abstraction glowed...undid its silken flag-- firmly planted in an undiscovered region...her time come.
0
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 7:45 PM UTC
Muck Bit Her Ivory Nightgown
inception an idea implanted in past land passed on dark wings to grasp hold fast in sketched out morality soul aghast push my copycat character past fracture spiderweb cracks in arguments made solely of self righteous closed minded glass however deep these malicious tendrils slip and strangle the growing tree of a raptured unique individuality with perverse views of gender love equality and views with that they do not agree that do not conform with their conhypocrisformity i want to be free to be free to be me i want to find my personality i just want love, of self, of you, agree?
0
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
free flow (love)
Spread thin between the trees Waiting for the sun to set And gentle night to begin Crystal dripping as the thunder far away tumbles The cold night wind Playing in the dark Would you believe though That I could be broken As quiet as the click Of demons claws On hardwood floors at night I could be shattered Like a crystal dish Lying broken And silver handled Dust collects Sunshine comes in bright Until her voice comes in Until the calling wind Until the river bend I'm home again Back between the trees Waiting for the night time So gentle and sweet
0
Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 7:31 PM UTC
spiderweb
"No!" - He protested Yes, he had said that she was like lightning, but he meant that she startled him with her randomness and thunder, and not that she pulsated writing a spiderweb into the nights sky; it was that she filled him with a certain nervousness... and no, that nervousness was not like an electricity. And while the argument continued it was brought up that he had also compared her to a storm. It wasn't because she climbed with a certain inexorable quality like the tides or that she was the perfect mix of calm pretense and wuthering looks. It was more because she reminded him of the rains lightly dancing on his bedroom window making him dream.
0
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
Writing a Spiderweb
Oh look, a beautiful butterfly is soaring in the air fluttering ever so gracefully in the beautiful, warm, spring air flying through the air in such an elegant, sunshine filled sky which is recovering from the harsh winters so astonishingly beautiful... until the butterfly got caught in the trap of a beautifully made spiderweb twirled and twirled, it's crushed and eaten.
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 8:15 PM UTC
Butter-Butter-Butterfly
Spider flexes wires mosquito pasted spirals caught in spiderweb
0
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 2:29 PM UTC
Spider
Oh, I'm a hungry hungry spider, Watch as I make my web grow, Pluck a line here, Catch a lady bug there, And the look of terror in her eyes, As she knows, oh I'm ******* her cold. I eat her raw, from the inside out, Drinking her virginal juices, Oh the ***** moans I shout, They don't stop until the job is done, Dark and decrepit I sink even further, Alone, yes, But carried inside, a thousand lost souls, Trapped in a web, A web for a spider, to live and be fed.
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
The Spiderweb
I would scale the highest most decrepit radio towers in the world the rusted metal crumbling against my feet Risking electrocution and the constant threat of falling as I rewire the ancient spiderweb of cabling so I can hear even the faintest transmission of your voice I'll clutch a stained and faded photograph of us The only remainder after most everything digital dies out in flickers of dormant transistors and dissipated binary I'll protect it from acidic rain and the grit of persistent dust storms So little resources left in a continent of incinerated cities yet this picture of you and I is all I will need to keep moving When I finally find you I will fight against all impossible odds and potential ends I'll walk entire burnt out highways with you just to make one last stand I will carry you across these deserted wastelands and returning forests To show that even after the bombs drop My love belongs to you
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
A Love Poem for the Apocalypse
*You shake me like a spiderweb Reverberate the edges of my mind Until the very essence of you spreads And you are attached To every corner of every structure Which I've slowly built up inside of my head*
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Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 10:01 AM UTC
Like A Spiderweb
*The spiderweb catches glistening water jewels in the newborn sunlight.*
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Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
Break Of Day
clicking teeth rattling breath veins too small and cramped lungs spindly ribs and spiderweb lips you wake up sunshine on your face lazy smile lazy voice eyes squinted why can't I be happy like you? you taste like ozone and i have traced the knots on your ankles and the hole in your chest for hours revising calculations compiling a chart mapping your unknown spaces to find the real distance from you to me not in the light years from your mouth to mine but thoughts memories four thousand six hundred fourty four instances without me that void is infinite your mouth is full of flies your brain is a quasar with no light on the horizon there is nothing left of you but bones and a nest of veins and arteries with your heart stuck in the center like an egg your wings are melting you've flown too close to the sun again wax tattoos you poppy red in drip drip drips how could i forget you? your parabolas your rosy cheeks and the weight of you how could i forget? you have no solution (i could help you find one)
0
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Chest