Work Text:
Today I killed an insect,
I crushed it's wings one by one,
a wispy whispering chorus erupting from within it's core.
Today I crushed an insect,
for I felt immense rage,
a dangerous beam of anger erupting from within my core.
Today I killed a fly,
for it's nonsense buzzing chirped constantly,
and I was deluded into nothing but red,
I crushed the bottom of the cup onto it's center,
excessively rolling it into a smushed heap of crimson.
I smiled eagerly to myself, the dipped corners of my lips pulling upward into a smug look,
pride and immense rage wounding up inside of me, bound to kill.
Today I killed a fly,
for not it's inconsistent song,
or it's nonsense buzzing,
but because to kill is to kill what cannot defend onself.
And to kill is to bury your sin in nothing but guilt, shame, and smug pride.
Until all that is left is the dimming of a thousand suns, the eyes of God watching as you bury all of your consciousness into numbness.
So.
Today I killed.
I killed two tiny beings,
not for the anger I felt,
or the arrogant pride within me,
but because I could.
So I killed.