Cimicidae
You may have come to me
in the middle of a nightmare
I didn’t sense your presence
or when you left
but I know you laid upon me that night
I noticed your marks in the morning
unaware
you were always following my breath.
Your branding stayed with me
for days
I blamed it on another
like we often do
when evidence doesn’t
just point one way.
It could have been anything
I thought
but she raised her eyebrows in concern
then we quickly blew it off.
Life went on
amidst your absence.
I’m thankful for every
drop of blood
I was allowed to keep
but now as the sun sets
and I twist myself up
in one sheet
thoughts of you
keep interrupting
my sleep.
I lost patience that night
as I grew in fear
I’m all about life
I let them all go
it’s this pattern I can’t break
but you
I tried to make you disappear.
I watched you flay
as I began the process of suffocation
but a crack in the plate
a break in the seam
this isn’t the way
to oxygen deprivation.
You met me with movement
in the morning
and I wonder
who all was witness to
your survival?
Could I keep you to myself
a trophy
for a small success?
Or is your death
only fuel to the fire
of their revival?
The more I learned about you
the less I could sleep.
Knowledge
is not always the answer
and those things I
filed in the back of my mind
I wish someone else
could keep.
Like how you find me
every time I exhale
so I brought the sheet
to my face to
capture my breath.
But as my eyes closed
I imagined armies
among me
and how my suffocation
could not prevent
your stealth.
And its almost kind of you
to leave me numb
a little anesthetic
before your attack
but it cannot sooth
those running thoughts
in my head
“Give it a week,” they say
before he comes back.
So I wouldn’t let you
come back.
I bagged your body
and froze your bones
you would never call them in
as I cut off all communication
of your pheromones.
But your death
does not let me rest in peace.
And it’s almost sick
that I can hold you anytime I want
but thoughts of all the others
keep coming back to haunt.
And it could have been anything
I thought
but I am not one
to live in mystery
so I sat in front of my glowing screen
learning of your sick
sick history.
Time kept passing
as I dug and dug
and the furthest it brought me
is here
so this is my bloody ode to you
my little
bed bug.