The Spider and the Fly

1 Comments

  • hcrellers
  • February 5th, Friday morning, purple dawn... A moment like a poem, you wish you could hold it... I shut my eyes like it's frozen... it's gone when I open...

The Spider and the Fly

you crawled inside of me

spreading your cancer throughout my body

you made me sick with love

for you i feigned

it seems it was just a dream

a dream you kept feeding

keeping me apart of you

 

 

i held onto love

to find it was really nothing

how cruel your game was

i was always falling

having scraped knees bleeding

 

 

the first sight of my blood

you looked at my wounds

and kept gently scraping

you never let me heal

 

 

loving the power you had

you sucked the breath out of me

feeding on my misery

taking everything

spinning your web of lies

your the spider im the fly

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lithiumblack commented on The Spider and the Fly

01-27-2010

Derision re-defined. Yes, it really is that simple.

hcrellers

01/28/2010

exactly the point. :)

Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

hcrellers’s Poems (16)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Memories 1
Something 2
Am I the Only One Listening? 11
Pure 8
The Fool 2
Painted 2
Without You 2
Would you miss your life? 1
Wonderings of A Girl Lost in A Lonely World 1
The Spider and the Fly 1
12:15 1
Intuition 1
Broken Ballerina 1
Wishing Star 1
My Possum King 3
Thick and Concrete 2