i’ve got spiders nesting under my skin

for christsakes

they crawl and bite and scramble up and down

inside my arms

laying eggs in my veins

oxygen depleted blood cells rush them back into my heart and lungs

a vast network of the damned things

slowly taking over my meat like it is a series of narrows designed for them


how i feel them scurry

and oh

how i feel them bite


it is torture

and oh

it is delight

their poisonous fangs find purchase

and they don’t let go until every drop is slowly rotting me from the inside

don’t call me mad


you have no right to reserve judgement upon me


you silly two legged bastards


they have found my spine

eight legs at a time

eight legs marching ever upwards

eight legs times thousands

times hundreds of thousands

they peek out of my ear and dart across my face


the devilish things


making me dance

shaking and sweating and spitting and swearing

eight by eight by eight they run

i feel a segmented leg scratching out my tear duct

swimming in my eyes


the eggs in my bronchial sacs

and oh

the eggs in bladder


the little ones are coming

and oh

i’m powerless to fight

i’ve showered and scrubbed

but the hotter the water the faster they run

skittering across my frontal lobe

making my limbs jerk in spasmatic performance art

forcing fingers to tap

they’ve mastered language

they whisper things


the things they whisper

and oh

the things they show me


to spin a web now

and oh

seal my lungs closed

they’re there

they’re there

their thoughts my own


my thoughts their own

tangled in their webbing

trapped within their lies

the spiders are inside me

they’re eating me alive

they lay their eggs

and watch and wait

the venom over takes me

it’s keeping me awake


to end this torment

and oh

to end this life


they got inside me

and oh

i wish to die


they won’t let me

they pilot me

control me

they’ll never leave

i’m done for

and you think i’m mad

i’m not

damn you

i’m not







they scurry about

in my skull

learning from me

as they liquefy my insides

they absorb the stuff that makes me



6 thoughts on “arachnophilia

        1. It is. It is the most important biome we do nothing but abuse. The earth is alive, Gaia or whatever you choose to call the essence of life and we are choking it to death and calling it progress. That seems like a poem.


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