How the spiders work

With precision.
They move at night and hide by day.
Could be sweat thats seeping off you and onto the bed, but it's really them.
They just make you feel that it's sweat.
A head filled with pressure, enough to blind. It's them again.
Enough have crawled in there to make a dwelling; warm and safe, and you cannot get them out.

The sky today is the colour of tobacco-stained walls.
Light isn't getting through this solid wall of filth.
Everything has a sharp edge today; everything is a warning.
Head's pounding.
If there was a pistol nearby, then we'd find release.

Something is caught, thrashing to be free.
But there's no chance of that.
Soon, they feel the fangs sink into them, and the poison pours in, warm as death, and cold as the loneliness they feel.
Close your eyes; it won't help with the feeling, but close them anyway.
At least you don't have to see your life being stolen.

Eyes open in the dark.
What is that, by the door?
Is that a man?
How did he get in?
He's moving toward the bed.

Let's see what happens.