My Bed Bugs

Maybe I’m a desperate, searching soul

Seeking approval from strangers

Like a fish looks out of its fishbowl

Oxygenated by assurance and a hint of danger

It’s not so bad here in the audience

My dark shades covering everybody’s bare feet

Following my heart with a firm obedience

Another face passing for each different heartbeat

Whispers of indulgence creep through my sheets

Crawling like a bedbug up my skin

Past my teeth like warm sweet treats

Hundreds of bugs by my bedside in a tin

I eat them daily 

and keep my binoculars close to my eyes

They bitch and then bury

Under the rest of the guys

Now my taste towards bugs turns bitter

And no matter how much I wash my bed

Do the bed bugs seem to bother

Or scurry to where I rest my weary head

I know all he feels is confusion

A foreign tension in the air

An unfinished conversation

Please don’t look at me with despair

Dams on the rivers piled the rocks high

The rocks were always building up with blue

A frightening image seeing me try

So hard to never go through

Here she comes through a chorus of voices

The eyes of the judges avert to a distraction

Desperate and urgent their lips move in creases

Consulting the owner for almost permanent action

A consult of ideas flow through my mind

Poorly conducted by my sight

Each bug nonchalantly designed 

As I lead them to this burning light