I stood there and took the abuse
But in my mind I let it become my muse
My veins are filled with all that you left
Venom and a planned theft.

Planned my escape to easier days
Let you see yourself in too many ways
Did you like it or did you hate it?
I knew you wanted to break it.

And so you did and when you saw me
Behind the mirror in my glory
Did you ever think I'll tell the story
Of how he truly likes to adore me?

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.

Boss,

I hope you are ok wherever you are. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don't think about you. My dreams always seem to involve reuniting with you again. I know I probably never will be able to but my brain is only showing me my greatest desire.

I’m not doing well without you..
What I did. It isn’t worth it. Nothing is…
I want to go back. I want to hold you in my arms again and tell you I love you
I want to kiss your forehead again and be able to rub my hands across your soft fur
I want to go to bed with you beside me, sleeping peacefully
You were my whole world, I hope you know that. My soul is shattered now you’re gone
I beg the powers that be for your return to me.
However, I know, I don’t deserve it
My reason to live
Still belongs with you

I’m not sure how to continue. Honestly, I’m not sure it’s worth it anymore. Your life was the most precious thing to me and I failed you. I wish to reunite with you one day Patches, tell me where you are and I’ll follow you there, even if it’s to the depths of Hell, I don’t care. I just want my life with you back. I want my reason to live back

I want my daughter back

JACK’S LOST:
turn left, then right, go straight, turn left. directions i gave to friends my age, the days I played with no regrets.
and yet, mistakes abreast of time, land a man standing in a cage.
my life the dam holding back success commanding happiness–i’m really low on faith, that the bench I call my bed has a door I can escape.
streetlights come on again, reminding me the harshest winds will be my nightly cape.
           DANGER NO LONGER A WARNING BUT REALITY:
flashes, head a swivel, too much my eyes can’t form a picture. pretty pictures … what I hope for as I sip my liquor.
God, my body pulled by strings, hardly can i repeat simple words to get me down the street:
                   turn left, then right, go straight, turn left.
i laugh as another car swerves around me, my eyes are closed, blind to my surroundings.
it hits my nose– the smell of gasoline, and I ponder pictures of factories, loud noises and fat machines.
                              PRETTY PICTURES! –I yell.
cross the avenue, my attitude is changing, cuz’– i toss my bottle down, cracking it blows, i blow in laughter.
God already knows this is my final chapter–nothing matters.
i open my eyes, what do i see?
cars pull up behind me, one sliding to the tip of my achilles.
woulda made a nice killing, but i guess they prefer not
         but then the car behind runs the line, my brain hits the chalk–
                                     M-M-M-MAYA?:
                                 friends my age, the days I played with no regrets
my regret was to leave you, to waste your time
that I’m aghast at harm without a breath
how I’d give everything to shield you from thoughts of death

                                            how I’d give everything to be there for you
                                     You smiled,
                                but didn’t mean it;
                                      You cried,
                                     I didn’t see it
                            if time is what’s at stake
                       this time, Jack, I will be here

                                           for you

                                         JACK'S FOUND:
Time’s passed, and the curse has been lifted.
Two seconds awake and I can tell that some things are different.
My eyes open like a jack-in-the-box; my hand is twitching.
Then I’m embraced like a mother who has just found her lost children.

Something about this is oddly familiar. Except for the bed of a hospital.

M-M-M-Maya?
It can’t be, she–
Swatted her hands through the web of our plans
She and I are not connected
we are,
strangers again.
                                                          ­               "Tell me you’re okay, Jack."
"I’m okay, or I’ll be okay,"
Same clothes and the same smell,
Too familiar but I can’t tell
                            "I’m sorry, this time I’m sorry and this time I mean it.
                                                             ­                 this time I can help you."
I ****.
Help is not an option, I’ve determined, I’m for certain that it’s just another scam–IT ISN’T WORKING.
         "I know, I know, Jack, please. But give me a moment, a moment
                                                                ­                                  to show you."
Her grip is stronger, or wit is smarter, i don’t know but I can’t move.
"Maya no! Maya I–"
    "Jack, I’ve paid your medical bill. You’re free to go home, wherever
    that is but please, listen before you go. I know I’ve hurt you. I know
             I’ve left you at your lowest, kicked you when you were down,
   attacked your weakest spot. When your brother died of pneumonia,
     people thought it’d finally be the thing to shut you up. Everyone at
the campus thought that. Everyone despised you Jack! And I’m sorry
that people despise what they can’t understand, that people don’t see
   the beauty in difference. Some people just hated the way you spoke,
how every sentence, though they were few and far between, sounded
                like poetry. They hated when they heard your music playing
     through the walls as they walked the hallways, they hated walking
      by and seeing your murals on walls of the student center, and they
            hated most that you never seemed to care what people thought
                                                                ­                                            of you."
"Maya, I didn’t care for the majority because only the opinion of the minority mattered. But my currency of faith has been wasted, entrusting it in the hands of my friends presented falsely in truth. I hate it–I hate the insatiable feeling to trust, so that when the wall you lean on falls through, you know you can only put blame on yourself."

              "Jack, you’re not to blame. It’s me. I should’ve had your back
        instead of crumbling under the opinions of others. I just wanted a
   reaction, satisfactory, the joy of feeling like I’m found attractive. And
                     in doing so, I gave up on the only true friend I had–you."

I look into her face, forgiveness tackling me like a football player, forgiveness for her and I. And I hug her like a mother who’s just found her lost child.

the girl
gauzy dress
tattered and torn
running
breathless through brambles
reaches a river
pursued
panting
she must cross it
take a step into
freezing water
numbing bones
shaking shivering
pale skin and blue lips
trip
and
fall
hands go forward
trying to catch
whatever is left of yourself
but pieces crumble and scatter
on the mossy rocks
sharper than they
look
dogs barking
men yelling
filthy
hunting
they will be here soon
so get up
because there is no more time
to lie here
and wish you were home
the girl
who was maybe once loved
is now drowning
face down
in frigid murky water
the only company in death
is those who persecute her
as her pale body
begins to rot
even god
starts to
forget
about her
first
her hands
then
her face
then
her hair
until there is
nothing
left
so that when the dogs
frothing lips
raised fur
and the men
shouting voices
savage thoughts
arrive
the girl is gone
nothing left of her but a
whisper of wind
the scent of sandalwood
and strawberries
and ****
and summer days
long forgotten
but now remembered by those
who never knew them
maybe god didnt forget her
maybe he saved her

Behind the eyes of tv screens-
they’re busy watching us Netflix & chilling
Let’s binge on kisses until every show finds its end
show of hands if you’ve been searching for that
touch of love, that makes you fall in love again, and again…

Her eyes are like petals, that open up to me
as my words are the splash of love that helps her grow
She holds onto me like a dream you hope never to forget
inside my head, I imagine fulfilling her every wish that
requires a bed…