I bang on the bathroom window hard, once, twice, watching the moth attached to the glass jump back only to fly right back, drawn to the only source of light in the endless dark outdoors.
I continue banging and banging, in my mind as a warning
‘don’t find your way in, I’ll have to kill you’
After a few more times of my fist making forceful contact on the window, the moth becomes too used to the loud sound, to the slight vibration of the window, and no longer seems phased. It just stays attached there until I step out, turning off the source of light, and I can only imagine the confusion as it flies off to a different location.
I wonder if this is me, drawn to something that seems great but hides danger. I wonder if there have been signs warning me to back off, I wonder if I too, became immune to the warnings. I especially wonder when that light attracting me turns off, where I’ll end up next.