I don't hate ants

I don’t hate ants�"

or any other bugs, really.

I just hate it when they're around me, 

invading my personal space.

Like everyone else.

Once they swarmed my room,

pouring through some crack in the AC,

scuttering about like they pay the rent.

I know my father would have a few choice words for them as well.

Absolute pests, I tell you. 

Those b******s were probably looking for water.

Or crumbs I didn’t even knew existed.

I would’ve gassed the whole lot of them,

if I wasn’t keen on choking too.

Stupid squatters.

Yet, when I spot those dumb red-spotted lanternfly,

I can’t bring myself to kill it.

What if the stain gets on my shoes?

I just bought them a week ago�"

New shoe syndrome is real, okay?

Their soft canvas and pristine soles have yet

to be blemished by the grind of the outside world.

Meanwhile those vile ants seem to thrive on my suffering.

But here I am,

playing nice with crawling nuisances,

they claim my crumbs, my sanity,

waving their antennae like they belong.

It’s absolute anarchy: D-day. 

Scuttling with that insistent urgency,

as if they’re in a race to ruin my day.

Besides, I've always been somewhat vegan 

I wouldn’t want to kill them myself, that’s gross

So, I allow them to flutter about,

those irritating little creatures.

At least they’re not hurting me, y’know.

I don't hate ants.

I swear.

Author's Note

any critique is greatly appreciated!