Blattodea

 I am being haunted by a cockroach

Every chair I move,

Every drawer I open,

It is watching me. 

Sometimes scurrying,

sometimes still,

But always there.

I never know what intentions are behind those malicious eyes,

I don't even know what a cockroach's eyes look like,

As I can never view their Medusa-like figures,

Before turning to stone

These evolutionary-resilient and skilled monstrosities,

torment and torture my sense of self, 

and shake me to my core. 

Millions of years of oppression on humankind, 

Such a tiny body, 

Yet such a devastating impact.

My dread of these creatures borders on veneration, 

As in the end, fear itself is uncontrolled admiration.