A bit of nonsense written a while back to fill yet another blog's empty chasm

We are insects. Repulsive to the senses. We itch and irritate and make small children scream.
I have NO WINGS. I am a leaking centipede. Sucked to the ground with a hundred feet. But I know the niches and the crooks where I'm comfortable most. The places where those leeching hawks will never find me.