They Crawl Still.

They are small. They are many. On my cupboard. In my cupboard. Against my windowsill. They remain invisible until my white walls reveal them.

They've walked over me a thousand times. My neck feels their sting. I’ve sprayed insecticide endlessly, yet I think my life will slip away before theirs do. Every morning, I feel the heaviness of what I must face. No matter how many times I close and open my eyes, they remain.

Some dream of this; it’s a nightmare. They are everywhere. Sometimes I pretend they haven’t crossed their immense trade routes a million times, carrying items a hundred times their weight. I can’t bear the sight of it.

They hold meetings before me. As if they know, no matter how many I kill, they will remain as long as their colony is unfound.

I set baits, yet I become one. Each time I curse the holes filled with their kind, and mentally pour bleach into them, more appear.

Their colonies will never be found. I will never coexist with them. I tried to pretend they were never there, but they existed before me.

It’s like their home lives within them. They carry more than their weight because it means nothing to them. Not in comparison to what they want to provide for.

They are trailing towards my window sill. Every time I encounter them, they go about their business. Truly I shouldn't be annoyed I am the unreasonable one. Killing millions, am I not the monster?

Their bodies fall off the walls, their blood isn't painted on the white. I can smell the bitterness of their blood. 

I don't feel unburdened. It's acrid, their scent. The lemon scented insecticide, my lungs can't take. 

All I can feel is the weight of my hands. I can feel them crawl still. All over me. Every night. 

How can I forget when I have killed? What can they do but remember?