Black Widow’s Bluff

A marsh full of mist      
And mysterious fruits      
A thicket of brambles      
Serve as my roots.      
     
My branches are bare      
Ancient and prone      
I cannot bear children      
They would be stone.      
     
I find friendship, however      
From the village beyond      
I saw her the day that      
She washed in the pond.      
     
With wails of a wraith      
And blood on her thighs      
My old heart cannot handle      
The way that she cries.      
     
I am shocked that she sensed me      
Perhaps she is too      
She approaches, unafraid      
But unsure what to do.      
     
Extending my branch      
Though the comfort is cold      
She accepts it with thanks      
Unlike many, I’m told.      
     
A silvery flash      
The slowing of time      
If I do not stop her      
The crime will be mine.      
     
Felling a branch      
On her poor little head      
I take the knife from her hand      
And swallow my dread.      
     
Wrapping my branches      
Over her limbs      
I keep her asleep      
Until the gloaming is dimmed.      
     
She awakes with a gasp      
She is starting to fight      
Until my voice serene      
Manifests in the night.      
     
“Young woman, you’ve suffered      
More than enough      
Lure your abuser      
To Black Widow’s Bluff.”      
     
“Then run through the trees      
And return to your home      
Under your house      
There’s a porcelain comb.”      
     
“Lay the fine comb atop      
The dirt of my grave      
It will protect you      
Your mind it will save.”      
       
“But how do you know this?”      
She asks with a frown      
The question recedes as      
She looks at the ground.      
     
The horror she witnessed    
The terror I am      
“Whoever has done this      
Will be certainly damned.”      
     
“You know who has done this”      
Came my angry reply      
“NOW DO AS I SAY      
SO WE MAY TARNISH HIS LIES!”      
     
My voice fills the marsh      
As she sets to her task      
When she returns I see naught  
But a giggling mask.      
     
The porcelain comb      
She drops at my feet      
Eyes rolling madly      
Her lips will not meet.      
     
“I cannot, in good conscience      
Use this in your stead      
You needed it more      
And now, you are dead.”      
     
“I can not go on      
I have to give in      
He’ll be dead before me      
This is my win.”      
     
“I have a better idea      
I want be friends      
Make some room, will you?      
For when my life ends?”      
     
I giggle with a madness      
Cultivated for years      
Gone is the loneliest      
Deluge of tears.      
     
I rip my corpse from the branches      
Making some room      
As soon as she sleeps      
I visit her groom.      
     
Laughter in the trees      
And fear in his eyes      
I whisper his name      
As he painfully dies.      
     
I’ll never admit to YOU      
What I have done      
Imagine him, though      
It was amazingly fun!      
     
Returning to the girl      
She’s as good as her word      
She giggles anyway      
She is finally heard!      
     
Ever after, we talk      
…rotting, reminiscing forever      
Not to mention plotting      
Our future endeavor.      
     
Rapists, be warned      
We have nothing to fear      
With your blood on our faces      
Our minds are finally clear.      
     
     
Sleep well.