Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2011
Skin scrubbed raw for the thousandth time
Bleach became my boy
The container impenetrable, sanitary sanctuary
I bled soap suds through unclogged pores
Exposed without the film that blurred all interaction
Flash freedom and a taste of humanity to new buds
The light stung my eyes, and I turned to hide
Hasty retreat and acceptance of defeat
I saw a doctor, and he gave me a shot
But forgot
To clean the wound
Or change the dressing
Infection claimed me and drove me mad
I ran home barefoot in a hospital gown
Dodging bats and rats and wolves
And I dove into the mud, rolled about
Bathing in soothing gratification
Caked in routine and ruminating about the choices and the fall
I watched the sky, contemplating zero or more
Written by
ERR
831
   Anna
Please log in to view and add comments on poems