***** hands, mine
Always *****
Scrap and scratch,
Always nagging
Layer by layer,
Digging out the dirt
Layers gone, but dirt remains.

***** hands, mine
Ever so intrusive,
Clenched fist, jaws clamped shut,
Still they find a crack,
And in they barge, authoritatively,
To my heart
With blood, the dirt gets pumped out, everywhere,
Drop by drop, the blood falls,
While the dirt sits there, a vicious smirk,
"you can't get me till you have drained your life out "

***** hands mine,
A seductress, in her ripe age,
Traps, their hold growing stronger,
With each show of your resistance
Oh ***** hands of mine,
You play your cards so well
But let me go wash my hands
Before we begin again.

-Written by someone with a constant compulsive desire to wash her hands, and that too at most bizarre moments