The Weaver

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 30, 2018

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Submitted: July 30, 2018



How many times have I lied?

Inquests dripping through my siphoned mind,

Filling with frustrations of the lascivious kind.

It poises a warning floating high. 

It says "Honey you'll find...

You'll try to get on track

But the guilt will eat you alive...

He'll bleed you dry

And lure you in with his diamond eyes...

Don't be jaded by his selfish helix of cries,

If he gets into your head he'll never die.

He'll make a home and brand it into your third eye."


I've tried to walk away from that sadistically wicked smile. 

My mother prayed to Hera to shield me from his carnal vile...

But I'm trailing right back to his allusion of distorted allure. 

"He's poison for the eyes...

Walk away or you'll never survive.

He'll spin a web of lies with the silk from his primal cries...

He'll eat you alive. 

A long-jawed orb weaver pulling you out of sight.

His selfish insights will rob you blind,

While your instincts are drowning out your cries...

Honey, you're gonna die."

© Copyright 2019 J.M.Mason. All rights reserved.

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