Kill

I don’t like to kill
Even the small things
Even the littlest ones
I feel it too hard

I stand over them in their death
And whisper about their short life
As if mine is long
I don’t like to kill

I mustn’t
Do you understand me?
It hurts me too bad
To watch them writhe

To watch them twist
To watch their life leave
And abandon their eyes
It hurts me too bad

I hit a small wasp today
With a pocket size notebook
I scooped him up and slid
Him out the window

I hoped with everything
That he would fly
But I heard him hit the ground
I don’t like to kill

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