By JFarrell



“What if…?”, starts the web

One thought, one tiny feeling of doubt

Screams with such deafening force

The echoes ricochet back

Pummelling you with the shrapnel of anxiety

Suddenly, your mind is racing

From “what if…?” to “WHAT IF…?”

The thousand fears that instantly flood you

Are corrosive, adhesive, sinuous, entangling

Beguilingly wrapping themselves about you

Tighter and tighter, crushing the breath out of you

Gossamer tendrils of fear cling to all your thoughts

The more you struggle the tighter they constrict

Ensnared, rooted, trapped

Like the fly thrashing about in the web

Trying to break free

Your misery only serves to be the appetizer

For the spider approaching from your soul


Author's Notes/Comments: 

here ends the web

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allets's picture

Futility As Philosophy

No matter what there is no escaping death. Move over Poe and Ellison - I hear the echoes of "Paingod" ~allets~




suicideslug's picture

wow, thank you

wow, thank you.....

your comment IS the greatest compliment i've ever received (for anything, even just existing)

but i think you got the wrong guy, i just waste of space drunk....

i'll stick with being a slug :-) noone notices a slug till you've stood on it :-)


please forgive me, your comment so staggered me...

taken me longer to write this right... than to do a lot things...

yes i dream of being the next stephen king or edgar allen poe....

and i had to check up ellison - thought you meant american psycho author, but the road less travelled....


but i am ..... maybe only part-time drunk now, but still waste of space, though i do have a job now

sorry, just wanted to say thiank you and wow

and please forgive the slime trails

it is an unpleasant by-product of being  a slug


many thanks and i wish you rainbows