A fact: I am afraid to need from another.
afraid that if they fulfill, I’ll rely,
then... *poof*
the rug, from beneath us, burned
flash fire.
slash, say, it was infested:
BEDBUGS
but it was just a little worn!
needing a good cleaning
better placement
no, it had to go.
removed from sight
as if that will stop the itch,
prevent future bites
from bugs we tried to vanquish
who persisted:
squirmed into eardrums,
sidled onto dreamscapes
and rattled.
what’s left when you wake?
in the wake, living room bare,
was it always this small?
exposing dull floorboards,
any attempt at tap dance and
your soles splintered.
soak in salt water,
tweeze out each one:
an old regret,
a need suppressed.
an empty an ikea rug
cannot suffice.