Web

The person that lay by me is soft, white, and cold; The ceiling right above us is crowded with green mold. I can hear the drops of water from rusty pipes they fall. There's a spider spinning its web that hang helplessly on the wall. "Wake up," I say to the girl that lay right beside me. I run my hands across her arms but she cannot see. I get up from the bed that lay flat with stains. I drag myself to the bathroom where bugs crawl from the drains. I return to the room where she lay on the bed. I never thought I'd spend the night with a person that is dead.