I Once Fell In Love With A Spider Poem by sally brown

You brought me back a denim pencil case
left lonely alongside a river one day.
We thought we could offer it friendship or care
and we stayed up until four in the morning
producing art we hoped would stay.

You sat me down on a Marion Bay hill
where we listened to a song about mangos.
Believing this is why people existed and dreamt,
together our showerless scents arose with
no urgency or lack of faith near by.

You and I once visited a distant town in the heart of Tasmania.
We stole my Mums camera and took to the river near by
where I tripped on a rock and disrupted my skin with a graze.
With violet and rose blood protruding, you took a picture and said
“I want to remember you can pain and only I can stop it”.

You drew my blinds open to let the Moon in and the Sun said farewell.
Together, we lay in bed reciting our future that we hoped would include
a girl called Willow, a house in France and a bakery down the road.
No mention of money for travel or food was uttered
as we thought our passions, hope and love would prevail.
I was then, a bug keeper.

I remember finding a note in the denim pencil case,
written in French or something similar I was unable to understand.
Silently, I thought of the child it would have belonged to.
You stole that pencil case, Dear.
How wrong it was for you to do.

I loved that song, the one we listened to together on the hill
about mangos and happiness and life amongst the heat.
I thought the lyrics were all we needed as our air to survive but
slowly I began suffocate and when I hear this song now,
urgent fingers press into my ear lobes to prevent prolonging pain.

I found that picture the other day,
the one you took alongside the river bed
as blood trickled silently down my knee.
I thought of a new caption, Dear, of which I hope you approve,
“I will never forget this pain and chose not to stop it”

I now see the welcoming of the moon as a constant reminder.
How foolish we were to believe in young love
without the presence of truth.
You, my Dear, have lied to me and for this
I wish your passions, hope and love fail.
I am now, arachnophobic.