Dirty hands turn me dirty,
spread the dirt like oil,
and it seeps through my skin
into my blood, vein to vein—
a virus that spins my head.
I fall and clutch my stomach until I bleed
and then it begins to rain from everywhere,
washing gravel off the deadliest roads in town.
The sun punches through abruptly
and mud still lingers on these roads
so I cringe and bite my hands in panic
because a dirty mouth turned me dirty too.