Untitled (Anthill)

I felt my world cease like a breath
Until my own was taken away
And I was brought lower than myself
Like an anthill crushed underfoot. 

In the little reds that dart about,
Muddled and helpless,
Think of me please,
Think of whose quiet you have trampled on. 

You have ruined me
With that kind smile.
I was perfect before,
Now I am less without you.