She was a butterfly,
(A monarch,
Perhaps.)
Wings of golden
Like stained glass
painted in warm
Summer glows.
Tints of black,
Like vines, her dark side,
Curling.
The colours
Intertwining,
Making beauty.
He was a spider,
Fancy, with all those legs,
His arms around
Eight girls
All at once.
He ate them all up
Their being, their happiness.
Until there were
none left.
The spider spunspunpun
With spindly limbs
And a tie around his neck
A web of words
Pretty words
Promising words
Betterlifebettertomorrow
LovenowLoveforever
The web lied
Blinded her,
With a future that
Would never come,
The spider pulled
Her in.
Cradling each wing,
Soft and tantalizing,
Covering the glass,
Curing the black
With words.
And he ate her all up
Whilst whispering
Pretty
Pretty
Words.
Posted by
Shelbyyy!
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