Besides my sex-haunted dreams,
things have been okay.
And I don’t need therapy
because I’ll just tell myself.

I know because
I’m walking beneath sheets of gold under the sun…
Or maybe just sheer gold fabric over colored lights.
We’re pretty cheap,
But it’s about the beauty,
not the money.
And if the sky fell,
I’d like to not be crushed.

And I spent half my paycheck on an
unintentional portrait of myself
gazing at the muses
in my purest state
because it was what I needed.

I’ve got to look at myself….
Learn to like myself,
because myself is all I’ll have.
All I’ll have for good anyway.

So I’ll finish weaving my web
in time to make it to my classes
and appointments
and commitments
and I learn to make myself feel things
instead of finding emotion in others to clone and
strap to my spider shoulders.
I think I’ll go to bed early.