I just started a load of laundry In hopes that it will wash away The discomfort around expression From my identity. I imagine little people As they run up and down My pant legs My shirt sleeves My bra straps Steadily scrubbing the internal Abuse from the fabric. They peel off the fine layers Of self hatred and grime Only to leave behind a shell For my body to fill once more.
And, with no doubt, I will climb from bed tomorrow To don these scraps and They will become one with me again. My self doubt and insecurities will Stain my shirt pits and my pant cuffs. The devil raging inside me will, More than likely, ***** my underwear Leaving me in my own filth Until I find time again To do the laundry.