PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Too many thoughts;
Too many spiders in my head.
Spinning webs;
To catch the flies;
The flies that swarm over my dead brain.
Its cold in this room, the metal;
Is as cold as Death, but there's no pain;
My smile comforts me.
The spiders find an exit;
Through the bullet wound.
I feel the sensation of a thousand tiny legs.
Their hatching eggs;
Where are you?
When i left you were asleep;
Are you finally happy?
I hope you're finally happy;
because I am.