A spider crawls with lethargic slowness posing for a strike.

I said I understood him, and I do.

But he doesn't understand me.

No one ever does.

In general, they all confuse me.

They say one thing and mean another, piecing uncoordinated threads together, into a web.

Dogs are the only ones I can trust because they never have to untangle themselves.

But insects do.

Fantasy books are like those webs piecing deceitful tales one by one.

I hate them.

My mom was caught in her own web.

I hate that

I don't understand.

These untrue stories mean nothing to me.

I will never feel a spider's teeth sink into my skin,

Or be the small insect wrapped in the web of lies bewildered and ready for death.


I don't tell lies.

A/N: This was an assignment for English class, so here it is! Hopefully you like it! Reviews please!