Reaper

 As a master of death I relish the process. Simple swatting doesn't quite do it for me. I like to watch the suffering, the last twitches as life leaves the body. I'd snip the wings first if I could. There's this one method I prize above all others when it comes to Reds. It's date of origin should be a global holiday. It's called Terro's Liquid Ant Bait. The active ingredient in the bait interferes with the ants' digestive systems, eventually killing the ants within 24-48 hours after consumption. This slow kill gives the worker ants enough time to get back and share the bait with the whole colony. This method of genocide is ingenious if nothing else. If you look closely enough, you may see the clear liquid translucently through the abdomen. Give it time. After a while, you see these fuckers moving slower. Soon the container in which the bait is held becomes littered with bodies- what a beautiful sight. The ants come no more. 

It Burns Slowly

 He lives with the light at the end of his square- with the end of his cigarette. He thinks with the fire at the tip of his cigarette. His thoughts are of her only. Over her he has no power- her whims, her thoughts are her own. She's leaving here to go to her own home. He lights another cigarette. This fire he knows he can control. He smokes the leaf that kills it's soil- it soaks up all that's around. It's a weed in its own home. He longs for something more than what he has. He lights another square. He wont let the flame go out. The flame is his life- the closest thing to life he has. The ash floats. The butt burns. His thoughts are of her. He waits for her shift to end as the tip of his cigarette burns. He yearns. He yearns for something more, for something he does not have- something he cannot control. His thoughts are of her. He's on his last cigarette. The butt burns. 

He’s by Himself

That girl will be the death of me. Definitely. An island unto himself, this is me. A planet with no orbit, a drop in the sea. I figured it be like this, similar to swing and miss. A goodbye without a kiss. What’s a friend anyway? I thought I knew. She did too. Sunsets over the lake. A heart destined to break. Who’s feelings were fake? His were real. Hers were too. What’s a friend anyway? Damn, I thought I knew.

Friendly Advice

Hey, friend. I see you’re thinking hard. Let me give you some advice. I’m sure it’ll help. It might help you forget to remember. It may help you remember to forget. I see you’re thinking hard. It may abolish your worries. Can I give you some advice? Don’t thank me. I just want to help. Friend, what’s on your mind? Stop thinking so hard. Mountains and moll hills, that’s what it is. Hey, friend, take it easy. No worries. Hey, friend. Let me give you some advice. Listen. 

Sort

I know her name. She knows mine. I cannot tell a lie, this woman is cute- as cute as cute can be. Her hug’s grip was that of a vice. Her hug’s grip was tight. Is it too much to say I love her? I think I have a crush. Married with children - that’s her alright. Married with children. Love her? I just might. It’s night and it’s her I’m thinking of. Her hair is straight. She’s awfully skinny, but this works for her. Her hug was like a vice. I had to catch my breath. I know she felt it. Right? She’s a friend- a friend of mine. She’s awfully cute. I wish I could see her, even just for one more time. I know her name and she knows mine. I know her name. Her name is fine. 

Forgiven?

She asked me to come, so I did. She did not ask me to stay. I did not. Who is at fault? Is there anyone to blame? The answer to that depends on who you ask. She said it was natural, so natural for me. She was telling the truth. Maybe I'm not the one for you. Maybe I'm not. Can we go back to being friends? Can we? Go back? We were too forward. We were in like. We acted as though it was love we were in. Was it? Is it? I hope there's no hard feelings. It was only a cigarette- a cigarette from a girl with blonde hair. Blame me for being natural. I am to blame. Forgive me for being natural. I pray it doesn't hurt.