Yoo hoo!
Didn’t they warn you? Bed bugs bite.
A sorry sight, ask first, Mister,
Or face the fury
Of a once woman,
Turned creature turned stone
Violated in her once home
Once womanly
Once body
Abandoned and burned “LADY”
Replaced with: freak
Petnames to quell the sting of “she”
infiltrated, detonated
By every he who followed,
Rampaged, permanent cracks
How to dispose of shattered glass?
What if, in fact, this bug not born this way
But chose: both, neither, “them/they”
Laid rest little-red-riding “she,”
Deflect catcalls before puberty
Forgive drunk “he’s” too touchy, too late
Crack chokeholds from so-called soulmates
Who fucked the lady out of this bug
What’s left?
A shell, turned beetle wing,
an empty turned armor.
Did you know? A ladybug in peril emits an oozing
yellow substance to repel predators?
A warning: sickly, puss-y
In that case, call my trans disease.
If it keeps the scum off me
Call my poison, freak,
Insect, pest, shrew.
That’s Sir, Creature, Mx. Bedbug to you.