My mind was bleak and foggy,
tangled in cobwebs,
caked with years of undisturbed dust.
An apparition of my former self
glaring in the mirror.

Who was she?
I forgot.
Bigger than this.
Happier than this.

But I forgot.

She was worthy and pretty
despite it all.

Then, a spider crawled inside her ear.
Year after year, it spun its home,
each new entanglement
dulling her spark.

Pulling out the webs,
thick and gross,
sticking to my fingers,
clarity returns,
and the fog slowly ends.

But then again,
is there ever really clarity?
Or are all brains simply balls of webs?

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