My skin has become a paradise
For parasites
My organs
Their favorite streets to walk
They swing between webs
Spider silk connecting my skull
To my spine
To every rattling breath I take
Fledgling lungs
Sheltering whole communities of brown recluse
And black widow
Humming deep in my chest
To lull me to sleep
But the best ones make their homes in my ears
Spiders keep me up at night
They tell me stories
I love to listen
The little ones love faerie tales
Some sing of undying love
But the majority of my arachnid friends
Shake their heads sadly
And say only
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up
YOU ARE READING
Please, Disregard
PoetryAn untold story from a misplaced generation, this is teen angst at its finest. These the writings of The Suicide Notebook, or how I'd imagine them to be. It's mostly going to be in poetry form, slam or rhyming. Keep in mind that slam poetry sounds a...
