(BASKET CASE)

.

i consider the newness of the sky

and watch the world go backwards

i scrub scents and soaps into my skin for hours or years

but i only ever feel clean once i cry

make me write poetry.

it is the only way to wash my heart

maybe i cant stand being dirty

because i cant scrub under my skin

or rinse the residue from my bones

reach in behind my ribs

and clean the things ive seen and the things i know