n0t a waste 0f space.

spider-girl

dreams so enticing, ideas so alluring,

art so appealing, but minds that get blurry.

webs of emotions, tangling my mind, 

spidery wisps of reality's time.

bye, sweet time.

triathlons of hope, wheels keep on turning,

days become weeks, why am I hurting?

dissatisfaction, dysfunctional design,

spider webs tangles in networks of mind,

no flies, just more endless "why's?"

here's what to do with your gangly legs, 

take all your thoughts and build me a web,

stretching my silk, grasping "what ifs?"

do spiders think to themselves, "this can't be it"

can it?

patterns repeat, naturally systematic, 

numbers in nature, freely pragmatic,

oceans of ideas, none fitting the mold, 

think how you want but create what's been told,

what's old.

constructing constellations of questions and thoughts,

building my web to connect what's been caught.

but I am only a spider with silk that's so fine,

abyss of ideas that have to fit fly-proof designs,

not flies, just why's, looking for the prize,

I am simply a spider with too many eyes.