A Worm

a man breaks free of between two halves of himself but which has he chosen

He bit an angle worm in halves

The crunch of its malleable body, its juices bitter

“I’ve done it” cried his barbaric yelp over the quivering leaved forest ground

A worm he was �"but not just a worm- an angle worm

Long and slick he festers within women, men, parental guardians-life

Splitting it into two: love and hate

His crime his very existence �"a bitter lesson people learned to stay away from

A worm he was �" but not just any worm- an angle worm

Crooked in its path, no more would he commit his crime

Underneath his boot he an inaudible crunch of one of the halves he held in his hand  

“I’ve don’t it” breathless with relief he had chosen his path

  But which we shall never know

Author's Note

what comes to mind when you read this prose?