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Spring clean
March 4, 2023
Given a bucket and mop
Told to clean myself of you.
White rags dipped in soapy regret
Your sweat, dripping from the fabric
Dirty walls in which I live
Faces splayed across brick,
Your name is ingrained within my taps
The water runs a different colour each day
Owning my world
You rinsed me of my thoughts
Leaving them in a puddle,
Where I step before walking out into the world
I am dirty again
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I wrote this piece about loss, good or bad; missing someone and feeling their absence almost physically. It can be interpreted in many different ways however.