30/06/16

I have grown morbidly adept at killing
Killing the insects that
Creep at the
Edges of my
Concern.
I kill them—why?
To avoid a small hole in a sweater,
A tiny bite?
For this, I take their lives?
Yes, I would rather them die
That I might not need to
Scratch that Itch.
I burn that bridge before
My conscience gets across.
After all, it’s a Little Loss.

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