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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I recall when I once sat, Sticky spiders spindled about my lap, Twisting and twitching within my place, Lost to another incurable case. Bent and broken, we struggled to find A compromise between heart and mind. Pretences built high, but still would fall, Spitting out a lamented lovers call. Too short to grasp your jaded frame, Inventing passion became our game. You played few and I won less, Melancholy mind made me a mess. I left you solo within your cell, Where you clashed musically with dwell. Savoured a gash infecting my heart. Restrained dramatics daring to depart. Until you grovelled, back to my chest. Laid your mutated heart on my breast. Pitiful and weak, you called to my pain, Sobbed out a tragedy, feigning insane. Pinching promptly at my skin, Endeavouring to worm back in. Roughly plucking at my strings, Clammy hands to scratch and cling. Biter-sweet poison, force me to taste. Romantic lunges; too late, a waste. With Christmas looming, a desperate coo, Festive folly; Do I love you too? Not out of pity, or misplaced guilt, I slung him the love that he let wilt, Spiders ruled its hollow shell. There is the cell where I did dwell. A saddened smile for whispered regrets. Misty eyes for lynched love we forget. Unyielding hands that were offered, now wisp away To the dance of fresh love that entices today.
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