A tiny spider's silk unravels steadily, believing
It would be picked by hands so tender to its heart,
Instead of fortuital encountered
By a completely crushing stranger's palm.
The loosened strain that flows in open wilderness
Had better learn to weave a big, wide web,
Before it gets too sticky at the other end,
And guts are scattered all across the green duvet.

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.