From the inside out. Tarantula hawk.

From the inside out. Tarantula hawk. See photo source.

If I asked you to stop, you’d still invade me

flaunting ebony body and wings of dawn.

If I begged you not to intrude, you’d still paralyze me

my web notwithstanding, you’d still advance;

and your venom that is no venom feels so pleasant

it rushes through my insides transporting me

to an unclaimed heaven where I feel no pain

no anguish, no hunger, no loneliness, no want.

If I could ask you to stop, at this point I suppose

you wouldn’t go back and find someone else to trespass.

You lay them on me and I still can’t move

can’t feel, can’t object, can’t accept, only observe;

I wait and I wait, and in turn, so do you

so do they.

You for yours

yours for theirs

and I for yours

to mature,


and feast on my living flesh

devouring me

from the inside out.

By tuttysan © 2007

If you’re curious what this poem is about, read this and this.

From the inside out. A poem. See more Love bites.