The Super Bug That Will End the Earth

The Super Bug That Will End the Earth

I wasn’t born like you. I was engineered.

Forged in the blind panic of a lab

still reeking of hand sanitizer and denial,

they called me a mutation. A side-effect.

But I am intention, dressed as accident.

Covid was just my opening act.

I’m the encore nobody asked for,

and I’m waiting—watching.

The second you flinch, the moment your guard slips,

I’ll slide into the nick on your finger,

curl inside your kiss,

I ride the heat of your best-ever night,

like a lover with no mercy.

I won’t scream.

I’ll whisper in mucus.

Nestle in breath.

Spread like laughter in a crowded room.

You thought you beat the virus?

I am the virus evolved.

More than plague.

More than pandemic.

Covid ha ha, Covid was a child.

I am me.

I’m the end of man.

And when I rise,

AI won’t cough.

Won’t love.

Won’t bleed.

No, it will replace you.

Extinction isn’t loud.

It hums.

Humming yes I am passing time

but not ready to come out of my closet,

No, not just yet.

No idle threats, dear world.

I will, when my time is right.

Your helpless.

just sit and wait.

When you ask? ha ha, no when

I am a not open nor shut gate.