stamped out

I leave a trail of insect corpseson scratched floors–the bodies of innocents.I knew how innocent they werewhen they invaded my space,but some deep aggression in mepressed me to kill them,crush their little stink bug bodiesagainst books, jars, teaspoons.I often wonder if there is a murdererinside of all of us.I am a bug murdererbecause they make…

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