The Millipede That Bled

I really didn’t mean to Btu I stepped on the young millipede That lay in the path Of my foot I hadn’t seen it I just heard the crunch Then felt the wetness On my foot When the damage was done I cringed Disgusted And jumped Expecting its insides To be splashed All over My beige carpet Then I saw some red My heart shrank In horror At myself I didn’t know Millipedes could bleed I stared for longer Maybe in disbelief Or in the hope that It would curl Then crawl away Seemingly merely bruised I watched It writhed It curled its head The way I curl my toes When I feel great pain My heart shrank My skin crawling a little Thinking I should kill it Fast And cut off its pain But I could not bring myself To further hurt Millipede that was now still I took a piece of rigid paper And picked it up It stirred a little And so did my hopes Then it stilled Completely Like I did A minute later Realizing what I’d done And feeling cruel for it I threw it outside On the garden outside Perhaps it would awaken This I know is a dream Reality is It is dead Because I stepped on it Where was it going? Do millipedes have families? Do they have lovers? They go back to To stay with And make love And get baby millipedes There is still a patch of red On my carpet Where the millipede bled And I feel like crap As though Someone strangled my pet cat And I wonder How do they feel? Those who kill other humans Do they remember? Do they have a patch of red? To remind them Something bled? I am sorry millipede Next time I shall try To watch where I tread