2 November 2012
When I think back to the tangled web, It’s in my mind, all bits of thread. Like a vision, but it’s in my subconscious - it’s not real, a creation of lies and deceit - all internally sealed.
Interwoven, connecting ages and years, a child, reaching for her mother’s touch, hold me, I’m here, or a gentle word, look at me, love me - but never heard.
As another thread and another lie is woven in, and the truth is disregarded, what is reality? the mother spins in the middle, in control of her own sanity.
Controlling her offspring, and all they are told, this isn’t a mother’s induction, her web is her security - and it’s her web of destruction.
The web of lies is tight, then she runs away and they are left all alone. Her web isn’t their security, there is nothing left to show, and the mother has spun her deceit, will they ever really know!
Web of Deceit • Opuss № I