Spider Silk Home

My mum tells me old habits die hard
I laugh because sometimes the only thing my old habits have their hands around is my throat
see, I’ve got a habit of running
Away
From books, from feelings,
would-be-lovers, new sunsets
from myself, and new sunrises sometimes,
places,
people,
things.
Nouns and adjectives.
Speaking of nouns, he asks me to run away with him sometimes
Let’s run away from home he says.
home is a noun
An abstract noun
And I tell him
I left home back ages ago
wherever it is, home has skid-marks of my feet gracing its welcome mat.
Home has boarded up windows, and jammed doors,
in fact the only thing alive in home anymore is probably spiders who’ve made their own homes there,
little spider webs, fragile threads stronger than anything else.
He says let’s just run away then, love
we’ll be spiders too,
make our own home
wrap it up in bolts of spider silk
So no one can ever get through.
He makes me smile, (a lot)
and so I say I’ll think about it.
See, I’ve been running away for so long, I’ve been around the universe twice and one half times,
but maybe, it would be nice to come home
to a spider web home
of our own
at the end of the third lap.


Image credits: Mike Depetris