Each day is a constant struggle.

Whether I am gasping for breath

or releasing dank air.

I have never claimed to be a good person.

I know exactly what my actions do,

and I cannot help but love

the fire that burns within that knowledge.

Playing with humans is such a trivial thing.

And I do it. Knowingly.

I feel the tremor in the air

after I have ensnared someone in my web.

I know this feeling,

I feed off of it.

Don’t get me wrong, I do not

do this to everyone, just

select few who will never be more

than just

prey.

I have my family that I love dearly.

I have them to thank for

this immortal web.

Something within me knows this game is dangerous.

That someday I will burn from

all of the spirits I have broken.

At first I could not help this

silky touch that I had,

I did not know when I was

entangling simple strangers.

But lately, it has grown.

Grown into something that I no longer

want to feed.

My mind is hungry,

my soul is thirsty.

This infinite game

has drained my being of any

sustenance.

I only now have begun to realize that

broken hearts were not the fault of others.

But my own striking.

Like scalding glass put in a freezer.

Cracked.

Broken.

Too hot or too cold.

And I was the cold one.

The element that destroyed beauty.

I know this now,

and the blame game has ceased.

My soul is searching now

for something more beautiful,

more meaningful,

and I cannot wait

for the day when I am fully transformed.

No longer a mistreated wolf spider,

sulking in the shadows of death,

but a young wolf, strong-willed and

hungry for life.