Back at it again with the cringy and weird poems!
It's been a while -ω-

An itty-bitty spider climbes up the wall.
With long legs and a huge jaw,
Barely fitting onto its little body
It climbes up, slow and steady.

The curtains give an uninterested wave
No breeze to greet them
In their longing wait.
See-through, lace,
They look elegant and prepared
For the ball which will never come
The ball with the Wind, slave of the Day.

The paintings reflect eachother.
One frowning, other smiling
Depending on one another.
Shimmering glass envelopes them
Like a donut's glaze
Making them brighter and better
In all of their ways.

The closet prepares to give a speech
To discipline all of his cutlery
All of the giggling cups and saucers
In his belly,
Under a layer of glass.
But even when they're so fancy and gold
They're still covered in dust.

A clock ticks by.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Calming and serene,
It gets under your skin
Of you, oh so willing
And you notice yourself blinking
To its rythm.
Tick tock, tick tock.

The walls,
On which surfaces this all started,
Squash down the spider.
And the curtains, and the paintings
And the closet and the clock
And all of the little cutlery.
And it squashes me down.
Into the bed.
Where I'll keep living
Even if I'm dead.