The Web

She wove her dream-web, a mystery veil

With which to shroud her soul;

She felt in her core that her scars glowed pale,

So hiding them was her goal.

She couldn’t know that the threads would trap

Her heart inside their maze,

Or understand that the mystery cap

Hid much more from others’ gaze.

So now she has the arduous job

Of fraying all the threads;

With every snap, there is born a sob

As knots relinquish beds.

And oh! the terror in her inmost heart

As web lays down its toll;

To live without strings is a brand new art,

And it will bare her soul…