Last night I wrote about a moth in my kitchen
in a fit of perfect creativity,
and as I got ready for bed he came into my room and flitted about.
But before I slept
and had already turned out my lights,
I decided to look at my phone one last time,
and when I did I felt the peculiar sensation
of something landing on my nose.
So I freaked out, and I swatted at it,
and down fell the moth on the bed,
a beautiful creature now living its last moments
that I had just said
was like me.
And as a regular person, one can find that a bit sad.
As a person like me, it’s a bit more than that.
Because I said that the moth and I were fighting for the same beautiful desires,
yet it seems in the fear and carelessness of another person,
one of us fell short of that.
And I don’t want this to be a warning
is too short