arachnophobia.the spiders are the only ones who listen to mearachnophobia. by Malinda-Rose
anymore. they make beautiful patterns across the nape
of my neck and down the curve of my back, their
delicate legs making my skin shiver. they weave words
over my teeth and down into the opening of my
esophagus, and i have to learn how to breathe
without destroying them.
they want to protect me, they say.
but it feels like there's an eyelash in my eye and
they're intent on ignoring my pleas to go, go get it out
as they continue their aerobics up and down my
sloping vertebrae. and there's a splinter under my nail,
digging deeper and deeper under my flesh and
i can't move to pull it out.
don't be afraid, they say.
but i can hear the scratching of silk as it slides
into my lungs and stretches over my pulmonary veins.
a million and one chelicera are causing microscopic
incisions in my arteries as they make their way into
the right ventricle of my heart. they're
invading my insides, swarming through my body.
and i'm stuck trying to remember wh