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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Waterloo chapter.

Your eyes seem pure, your lips and your hands as well

But your heart—the part I will not ever see

Could be a spider—a black widow maybe

Spinning a beautiful silk web to trap me

 

And I, a simple fly, am blinded by the sun glinting off the web.

How it makes the dangling dew drops twinkle and shine, I buzz right towards it. Now,

I’m stuck, I pull the binds and I twist

I’m stuck, I shriek for help and I cry

I’m stuck, I kneel for you and I beg

 

But who will save a fly from the lies of a spider so, I stay stuck—and I fall—hard.

Your words drip with enough honey to make me think you stole from queen bee, leaving her scarred

You promise me you’ll set me free

You promise me you’ll let me go

You promise me this is true love

 

You tell me your stories of suffering and sorrow, and I begin to feel for you

I do not see you as my deceptive captor anymore and I am starting to,

feel so much that I’m not struggling,

feel so much that I think it’s love,

feel so much that I don’t see binds

 

But I think the web pities me, it shows me signs of your past prey.

The bones of past flies, a reminder of how you lead them astray.

“Please, run and never ever come back

Please, run, just go as far as you can

Please, run” the discarded bones tell me

 

I now see the hunger in your eyes as you watch me. There’s too much,

drool on your lips, as you hold me. The grip of your hands when we touch

Foolish, I thought this was how it was done

Foolish, I really, thought you were my love

Foolish, I had caused myself to be bound

 

But no more, you have gone to spin more webs, to trap more like me,

To bind, break, bruise them and lie saying you will soon set them free,

I use the sharp teeth of the others to cut through my blinds

I use the arm bones of the others as hooks to climb down

I use your footsteps on the dirt to run the other way

 

Your eyes seemed pure, your lips and your hands as well

your heart—the part I not ever got to see

It really was a spider—a black widow

Who’d spun a beautiful silk web to trap me  

 

 

Thanks for reading! To see more check out my Instagram at hibah.writes

Hi, I like Starbucks, my laptop and fantastical imagery. Other than that, I am in my 1B term of Health Studies at the University of Waterloo. Stick around to check out some of my poetry :)