~| o l d . w e b s |~



spiders in my veins
crawling unused passages
weaving webs
of silent night
under my skin
begin
i can't move
for thinking i'm trapped
in this lost place
the passions
cry ink black tears
crushed spiders
staining my cheeks with
desire
unclean
my veins fill with old webs
as i wait for my time to begin...


© 1997, h e a t h . h o u s t o n