Upwards.

And it sliced away the commitments 
of the day before and it hung itself on
it's silence quietly at his door
but it tried gracefully to exit.

The webs coiled around it's wrists,
- really should dust beneath the bed
and find the box that's been all locked up
but you know those things you just don't
want
to do?

And it didn't have to do anything
anymore as control, for the first time,
was it's meal on the, once their, bedroom floor
at two am after alcohol entered.

The ties coiled around it's ankles
joining it constantly to that, a box that
had been so locked up but it knew it couldn't escape regret,
no super strength for it. Just a list of things it 
could not
do.

And it did not want to speak again
and it was washed out with gore, with a needle, thread
it drilled the poor
lips shut
one
   last


    time.