Letter to a bug

To the
poor little Buggie
which thinks it can bug me.

Dear Bug,

I see you crawl towards me
with nonchalance
Even my thousand times or more so
weight and towering height
that may seem like mountain,
a moving mountain, when I move
for that matter
doesnot seem to deter you.
I applaud your bravery
in trying to bug me
with your presence.
Little do you know,
there are much much more
number of heavier bugs
weighing me down everyday.

The bug of loneliness is heaviest of all.
It crawls up and down, to and fro
my brain, my heart, into my soul
Feeding away on my essence
and creating a hole, a gap, a void
that's darker and deeper than the abyss
of bleakest presence out there.
Then comes the nightmare,
the bug with poisoned antennas
and thousands of dreary cold legs.
As it creeps in my dreams
it chills me down through my spine
throughout my sleep and waking hours.

Following with it's flying wings
comes the bug of smoldering
jealousy.
Not heaviest, yet strongest of all
and able to move through the wall
Of my closed off heart.
It flies unnoticed to top of my head
navigating my senses
bringing in doubts and rage
and questions old age
make me go green
and scream
wanting more for myself.

Slow and steady comes anger
the bug born and bred with fire.
It feeds on blood of emotions
drains me out
and I puke curses
to regret it later on.
The bug of frustration is my pet.
I have raised and nurtured it
throughout my years of twenty eight.
I fall down, it bugs me
I cry, it clogs me.
I fail, it feeds me
I bail, it reads me.
With my palm on my head
I sigh, I slump, I give in
and my bug keeps winning.

There are others, there are more
I may even write a lore.
But for now, what I have said
Is more than enough for you mate.
So dear Bug, with your tiny frame
you would just hurt yourself.
As you advance towards me
I am writing this letter to you.
Give up fella, you won't do.
You bugginess, dear buggie
wouldn't be able to bug me.

Sincerely,
with all the love from the bugs I have,
srijaprasita.