Haunted

The alarm sounds

a death scream

plummeting me

into a waking nightmare.

I brush my teeth

out of necessity

as a mosquito teases

my ear.

I glance in the mirror –

it fractures.

The voices begin

to antagonise.

I throw clothes over

my corpse.

I walk out the door

your ghost

haunting my shoulder –

today is a good day,

the weekend

will be worse.

Identity Lost

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A spider

beautiful, black, orange and sprawled –

sits at the centre of his well spun prism of steel strong web.

Invincible, like a king.

Consuming anything and everything that enters his selfish trap.

 

Spray, spray.

He seethes as the pesticide invades his being –

twitching, resisting, this cannot be.

Falling to the ground – broken, withered, bound;

death cries imminent.

Who am I?