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!