Bees

I.
i saw that crazy-revenge-seeking-monstrosity of a spider
again; and i laughed, almost wishing it would come and
bite me, so that i could be your Spider-Woman one last
time.

ii.
your fear of bees and my inability to type seem to have
given us some common ground; neither of us like the
stingers and the pain but we keep at it because we are
strong.

iii.
you write about how you have very few friends, and how
people don't like you; i wish i could scream so loud you
would hear me say that i am so proud to be one of those
few

iv.
crayon-colored maps may help you find your way through
the pain and confusion, but somehow they can never lead
me to you; i wonder if thats because i colored outside all
the lines

[i wish you could know how much our silly little conversations
meant to me; but you can't because you're
gone..]