I slept in my pants last night.
Tears stained on my pillow like
The blood
On my hands.
I swept the mess of my life into your dustpan,
And wonder how many pieces may fall behind me.
I will never be able to clean them up,
If I am too afraid to look back.

I fell asleep in my shame,
Forgetting to take it to your dry cleaner.
You would wash out my skin and hang my soul to dry.
Carve your new colors into my palms.
Paint me new irises and maybe
I will fall asleep under new skys