The Spider Without its Web

Clean slates are always terrifying.
Like walking into a bright light,
skin stripped bare,
Afraid to get burnt.

I can't build towers,
When the foundations
Keep getting ripped away.

Does anything really matter anymore?
When there's a fresh start
Right around the corner?

I'm like a spider without its web.
I have to build a home for myself,
But none of the surfaces
Seem sturdy enough.

Everything I find
Gets lost,
Everything i craft

How long will I know you
Before I have to say goodbye?

Why can't I be like the snail,
And carry my home
Wherever I go?

But no,
I am doomed to see the death
Of everything I know,
Over and over again.

I will build my web,
Once again,
For eternity.