She’s the dead Gwen Stacy.
Just as her youthful self always whispered to her
of her future.
Apprehension stemmed
from her heart’s vast knowledge,
insight to which her congested mind
couldn’t comprehend.
And so she was hesitant,
tortured
and was hopelessly in love
with the vision of romance
that she so felt undeserving of.
She clung to that frail piece of Rope
the one that failed to save her.
You see, she never needed salvation.
She merely possessed a longing to be loved
by the one she was infatuated with.
Her personal symbol of security
The Rope snapped
and so did she.
Her body in the literal sense
And her soul in theory.
She may be a perished Gwen Stacy.
But that is not all she is.
For now her depth is as deep as the
kind green eyes she once upon a time
reluctantly fell into.
Over a delerious decade ago.
Amber is the Color of Her Energy 