Ficly

City Bugs

Something tells me
that if I shout loud enough from the tops
of this building,
the man holding me captive
would push me off the edge,
sending me, cape and all,
spiraling down toward
the ants of the city streets,
the bugs that move in routine
order, scampering off to
mundane jobs,
and I would fall and smash them
like the insects they
are.

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