Bedbugs

A Poem by Eden

Perhaps I should quit arguing with the bugs who want to be let in.
I shall invite them in for tea and little crumbs of me before I toss them in the bin.

They can skitter about my banisters and leave echos in my mind.
Safe from livid storms keeping them loveless and forlorn,
they can rest upon my marrow if so decidedly inclined.

And though I can pretend I don’t feel them crawling as they curiously stare,
I’ll stealthily listen and decipher their chatter about the matter of affairs.

Forever will I hope they eat the rot within that I have seldom seen,
even if it leaves an empty space where that rot once was clean.