Bug Collector

There was a song you used to play 

every chance you could in the car with me.

The lyrics painting a picture of a woman

trying to help a man with his demons.

Collecting all of the “bugs” that

still haunted him to give him

the perfect evening.

Hands gripped to the steering wheel

your gaze looking straight ahead, I wonder 

if you ever noticed how closely I was listening.

I noticed your suffering long before 

you became close to me.

I worried for months about you before

I attempted to give you my empathy.

When I finally felt safe enough to try

you took one look at my gift and

crushed it with your apathy.

I wonder if you’ll ever understand 

how deeply you hurt me.

I wanted to be your bug collector

until I realized you, yourself,

were a leech.

-Liz