BUGS ARE ME?

As I read the text on my cell, a little bug 

comes my way, I shout, and look around

for something to kill this clown. 

No phone or paper, will sweep this creep, 

the "empty pen" takes his last leap. 

Smash, it dead.. Pang, guilt, hits head. 

The bathroom door opens, hocus-pocus, a wasp , strolling in like it owns the town. 

Mind groans, fight or flight on a roll, 

control, let's be nice and send it home, for it's time to be an adult just lead the way with some water and spray. 

Many hours and effort later, splashing, viper scaring ,pleading - all traitors,she doesn't get the letter- jetter out for freedom ! 

 Flying crazy she's far from hive never, respecting that ,I bow to her struggle but I am far from being life saver , and consider the "chapal". 

Putting that away, don't want sin on my way, 

I call mom right away,who ,has tactical ways

but she uses the"chapal " anyway.

Later, I read about unity of existence, which

who knows,knows no grief or pain, sages say. 

If weird wings and I are a team, am I scared of a part in me? The different,the unknown , 

I think,as I swat a mosquito without a blink.