Virulent spider web roped with

Viscid silken threads.

Venal chords echoing schism ring

The verity of a seditious dream.

Vestiges of a stagnated promise

When void of stratifications and province

The vacuous sycophant cooing to the fly,

Propaganda to stultify the vagrant man-

‘Freedom we buy’.

Tears streamed down the beautiful woman’s face

leaving bright rosy cheeks left to waste.

Blood streaked lashes cut in her delicate back

tell a tale of brutal attacks.

The young woman bowed down surrounded by damp,

crumbling, slimy walls of the makeshift camp.

She stood before a hag most grotesque and vile.

Dark hair always wet, tangled. Wild.

Coiled with seaweed plastered to her dirty skin,

thin lips press a smile, nothing like a grin.

The sea hag watched the woman noting her pleas

dark eyes tumbled: the rage of the sea.

Slimy greyish scaled skin peels from her body

slurping wet and drooping sloppy.

Healing ooze spreads a numbness over her back

doing nothing for the tears that left tracks;

They stretch to encompass all those bleeding welts

signs of injustice yet to be dealt.

“What else do you see mother,

I fear I can no longer tell”.

“Your hands are clenched in anger, my dear,

we should wrap them just as well”.

To heal the young woman’s most incessant pain

She peels off another scale.

No wraps can change a love betrayed-

but a mothers wrath may very well.

I don't always snoop through my sister's room. Sometimes, I do, when she's taking forever in the bathroom, for no good reason. Or when she's spending the night at a friends house, I might get bored and take a peek.

She has the coolest stuff: bright red lipstick, high heels, bras. I never know what I'm going to find in there. I can't count the things she has that are particular; I think she's an alien or a spy. She's always coming and going at random hours and she gets really upset when she's asked what she's doing.

She's definitely hiding something. When she's on the phone with her ‘friends' talking about ‘homework' and she always claims it's ’private.' Why would she need privacy for homework? Sometimes, I hear weird sounds coming out of her room as if she's speaking in tongues. The only explanation is she's an alien. An undercover alien.

Why else would she get so mad at me when she catches me in her room. She screams and her screech sounds like a dinosaur. Rawrch! She even curls her lips back with her claws outstretched and everything. Showing her true form.

The time I told her she looked like the rabid raccoon, especially with her makeup all smeared like it was. She didn't like that, she would have throttled me had I not ran into the kitchen, sliding to the base and scrambling around my dad's leg. Later, I found out that some reptiles eat small animals, that must have been why she got so upset.

I still don't understand why she takes so long in the bathroom though. When I asked grandpa, he said maybe she needed more fiber. He didn't want to explain what fiber was, though. The adults had all this knowledge they never wanted to share. It wasn't fair.

Even after all the fights she still grabs a soft pretzel for me when she comes back from the mall. My sister can be nice sometimes, she's patient and explains some stuff. When she's not the shetile ancient monster of the locked realms, that is.

She left for school a couple of hours ago, then she had a part-time job after that. So, I knew she wouldn't be home for a while. When no one at home wants to play with me I explore.

There are so many cool places, like the attic, the office, and the shed. I don't know how I happened in her room but as always it was exciting. Especially since I had to keep an ear out for an adult, they're really nosey.

Sneaking into her room was always so exciting, like exploring another country on those tv shows. She had adult things in her room like candles, a hair straighter, and tampons. She has these things she glues on her face, fake eyelashes, they look like squished caterpillars. Mom never lets me have any of that stuff. I'm totally old enough.

I pull out a pair of her dress shoes the silver ones with really high heel and neat rows of expensive diamonds, then her silk scarf and some of her bug-eye sunglasses. I walk pretending I'm on the runway, practicing my model poses. One time I caught her walking all funny towards her mirror, talking to herself.

I got a video of it, she was so mad. It was great. She noogied me until I deleted it, but what she doesn't know is, I had already downloaded it on youtube.

The last time I rummaged through the box of spare parts she has beside her desk she knew right away. She said they were expensive and if I break anything, she's going to sell me to a sweatshop to get her money back. My mom said she was just playing but I'm not sure.

I peek into the box lifting the crazy looking motherboard up a little, just so I could see underneath it. There were so many parts. One of them even looked like a gun. I knew she was a spy! No one needed to be on their phone so much.

Anxiously I reach into the box my fingertips brushing against the metal. I inch my fingers a little bit further, staring at the picture of the hunky actor she watched- All. The. Time. He wasn't even that great he just cried a lot and was always shirtless. Pathetic.

Finally, I get a grip on the piece and pull it out. It looked like a fancy glue gun. Bummer. Tossing it back into the box. I put the scarf and glasses back too. Tucking the shoes under my arm I peak out of the door, and when the coast was clear I ran back to my room. Now, I could really play dress up with my new dress and hat I got for my birthday.

"NANCY! Have you been in my room again? Rawrch!"

Oh no.