mischief

You lived alone. Whether you were actually alone, or just ignorant, you weren’t sure.

I took what wasn’t watched. What wouldn’t be missed. Just enough to get by.

But I got greedy–I stole your lentils. You weren’t sure why.

You found them in the washing machine; Sprinkled throughout– little gifts from me.

But you didn’t know it was me.

It was just an oddity.

Until oddity after oddity stacked up and my existence began to haunt you.

Weeks later, you found me lying on the pavement.

You continued to live alone again. Until you weren’t.

We multiplied and were welcomed, but contained.

You cared for us, raised us. Fed us. Kept us safe.

As the years went by we were contained more quickly.

Only a few, then one. But I was still there.

We went from numbers to names.

I thought this was progress, but you tore down the walls, and then I was sealed in.

Now I am out of sight but not out of mind.

You left me here. Trapped me here.

Left to starve or thrive.

Adapt or die.

But, I can still hear you.

And you can still hear me.

Your ethics, your morals, still hear me, too.