Walk the web


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1. -

 

Love you, darling? No. 

And it clutches to my back 

Tears at the nape of my neck

Bites at my bleeding ears. 

It pinches my lips with dirty fingernails - 

Hiding my blackened liar's tongue. 

It takes a long, spiraling, delicate thread 

Plucked from your dreamy, dreary head. 

And threads it through the eye of a needle called Bliss. 

The point stabbing and spearing - up and through and out

My caged screams thumping their fists against my rib-cage 

ToescurledeyesdribblingfingersscrabblingpleaseGodI'lldoanything. 

It sews me up and ties a knot at the end of the follicle-thread. 

It pats me on the cheek and strokes my hair and nods it lolling head,

And I can feel my own; a mirror image, falling and rising 

With the weight of a stone plunging the depths of septic waters 

Behind my eyes, a descending fog of delirium. 

Oh, you win you win you win. A thousand times, you win. 

But love you, darling - no. 

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