I Don't Want to Kill You But They Tell Me That I Should

Drugged and distracted, polka-dot hypnosis

Stark red peeks out beneath your grey shields

Fluttering, flimsy enough

My boots could squash them quick

Printing press on pavement

Engrave size-eights into twitching mush

Please don’t look at me that way

Two boundless orbs of onyx glistening

Timidly as if to say hello

And nothing else

If you had ears, I might tell you

I think you are quite pretty

I would kiss you on your bug mouth

But my lips wouldn’t line up with yours

Instead,

Swirling ridges of stomping sole

Snuggle notches of hard-shell spine

Dirtying my boots,

Cracking, crunching, buzzing

In sweet homicidal harmony.