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Bugs
There are no bugs in this universe.
We only have a single curse.
There’s nothing but dust in the back.
No spiders which could attack.
There’s no way to feel the legs of a centipede.
Or let any butterflies feed.
The only evil here is the old roller coaster.
And the rusty toaster.
Insects really are a way of life.
I used to see them with strife.
But now, in this place, I do digress.
There are no bees which are precious.
There are no wasps, which I used to hate.
They would bug me when I ate.
Outside, on the beach…
I remember that bite of peach.
On the beach, or in my yard.
Who knew the silence would be so hard?
Without worms crawling around.
Or bees making a buzzing sound.
I thought I felt a sting on my arm.
I thought it was a bee doing me harm.
But really, it was a phantom sting.
I still try to listen to cicadas sing.
I wish a firefly would say hello.
Or even a fly landing on my elbow.
There are no bugs in this universe.
The sadness only got worse…
I heard their song.
I wish I could be strong.
I used to be scared of spiders under my bed.
But now, I have visions of Them instead.
Copyright ©
Angelica Tao
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