Diptera

I hate the tiny flies but I know they feed the spiders.
I never see the spiders but I know they're there.
I see their webs and I'm reminded of the places I barely look to and havent touched in some time.
I watch them collect dust and stretch and droop lifeless.
I open a window to let in the light.
Maybe the Sun will smile upon these walls through the glass.
The warm light fills every inch of visible space only showing the threadbare paths of routine cutting through the unused spaces.
I look upon the meager surroundings and think "I have too much."
I like to sit, so this chair is all I need.
I need to sleep, so the bed will stay too.
The cupboards seem painted on the wall and the stove would be a half remembered dream if I didn't see it everyday.
I only require a tiny space yet little piles gather.
Unopened mail, things that gather in my pockets now gather on the table.
I see them and I know I don't need them.
They were important at one time, now I don't know.
I should throw them away but I might need them one day.
I'll put them in a bag and stash them in the closet.
Deal with them later.
Used up items gather in the normal places.
Doomed for the garbage they sit and wait.
Drawing the tiny flies.