Life’s kinda sorta normal.
Till I ignore the spiders beneath covers
I don’t like them crawling on my skin
I can’t focus on anything else then…
I call pest control; they do a good job
The stench fills my nostrils for a week
I open the windows,
but there’s smoke from a fire outside
you can’t trust anyone these days
they generate smoke without fire
Yet I find myself thinking of
what was the fuel that caused the fire
or what is rotting underground
the sun rises and sets at predicted hours
starlight invades my sleep
I wake up, brush my teeth and dress for work
The breakfast cereal has turned rancid
The night was kinda sorta normal
But I can sense spiders creeping up
beneath existence.
There is no reason for anxiety
till they turn into serpents
and make me venomous
then the spiders will have a reason to worry
the earth will spin on its axis
maybe a few degrees off the mark
the length of nights and days might vary
I will focus on the damp and dark
as the sunlit parts move out of view
The world will be kinda sorta normal
till apocalypse feels real
and life takes a backseat

A dark and haunting piece, Reena. Beautifully written.
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Thanks so much, Eugi!
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There are more ominous things than spiders as your verse skillfully illustrates.
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Thank you so much, Punam!
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Ooh! A scary scenario
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Dark indeed! Thank you, Sadje!
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😅
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There is a word for feeling spiders crawling on you. Formication is a sense of touch hallucination that feels like bugs are in, on or under your skin. A lot of people experience that. Thanks for sharing your poem, Reena.
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Thank you, Jim! The other word is parasitosis.
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My daughter hates spiders, although as she has got older she is more brave of the smaller ones.
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Many of us hate spiders and cockroaches. Here, it is a metaphor.
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It is, and it works in a lovely way.
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