Poem: the black widow

6 inklings - saturday

this string – this
string that pulls in the dark
invisible like a spider’s silk
(that tugs
at my abdomen)
reducing my nett worth –
belittling me

i stand
on tiptoes
circling the room
like a bewildered fly
creating spaces behind and before me –
till it’s uncertain
where past and future meet and
of me (breaks) aches
’cause you know
i’ve been attached for too long
connected to you
by that little thread

less whole than half
less half than a hole.

i’ve been here too
grasping the web in my hands
not realising that we’re no longer strolling down a moonlit park
but instead it’s me
being dragged (a victim)
in an alleyway.


I really felt like I had to get this poem out. Right now I’m at the best stage to write so many poems (and probably at my best at making a path between my thoughts and poetry) but – and some may relate – my best stage to write poetry is at a point where my mental and emotional stage is very vulnerable and open, and that isn’t always a good thing. If anything, I feel like the above poem has some of my favourite lines out of all the poems I’ve written on this blog so far. I also like how it looks when I strip away the words outside the brackets, so the poem instead reads like this:

(that tugs
at my abdomen)


(a victim)

I don’t think that was my intention when using the brackets – but maybe Ezra Pound will be proud of me for that salute to Imagism. Let me know whether you liked the above poem or the shortened version! Personally I think they’re very different (despite using the same words), and different people may prefer one over the other.

So, till next time!

cumuloq ❤


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