... because they roam the surface
and scuttle across my rugged skin,
that is dirty inside from all insects;
especially the spiders pawning over me,
over my brittle fingers with their imprint.
As the eight-legged creatures dance
and illuminate the room, their shadows,
moving, empowering my shredded sanity.
Black widows have raped my mind inside,
and have crawled inside my head that
leaves them taunting me, hissing a tune.
These spiders are another piece of the
perplexity puzzle of the earth and its
creation... when will they stop infecting?

(yep.. fear of spiders =P)