I live in the neat and clean
Hung up shirts and freshly folded laundry
Sunlight peeking through the white curtains
keeping my mind at ease.

I am busy
rushing from spot to spot
reading, writing, and completing tasks.
It keeps my days full.

I am stressed
however, unlike the dark summer hours
I get to live with the stress in the beautiful autumn leaves.
I am stressed but in different ways.

I am lonely
but only in the unattainable love
that I romanticize, I am alone but due to my faults.
I am lonely but In different ways now.

I am so very weird
My moods, switching from one extreme to the other
finding a balance is extremely troublesome.
But people don’t seem to notice.
I am so very weird, but it seems only to me.

Or maybe I am not
Maybe they all see
I wonder if when they look at me...
Am I pitied? Or am I loved?

The days keep passing by
season to season, happy to sad
lonely to depressed back to happy
and I wonder where I’ll end up when the days stop.

i see my life hung out to dry
my memories slowly falling to the ground
my mind losing all colour
leaving behind a shell of the person i once was
slowly i shrink

When words form
but the voice is muted,
strings of sentences -
like loose lengths of yarn,
just swimming...
swirling in the currents
of the wash.

They meet,
they connect,
they get tangled up
with each other.

What had before made sense
now swells larger,
more intricate,
more tiresome.

It all converges
into a ******
as the spin cycle ends.

What’ll emerge
is a convoluted mess.



I’m a mess.

And then,
I get hung out to dry.

Tiny tawny girl next door,
Watch you scrub your kitchen floor.
Doggie down there, on all four:
I can’t wait ‘til you spill some more.

Laundry day, your fragrance drifts
Through my screen: My spirit lifts.
Subtle scents, your careless gifts,
And through each one, my keen nose sifts.

Singing, humming, filled with glee:
You wash your dishes, dutifully.
I hear you, though I cannot see,
How drippy-wet and wonderfully?

Accomp’nied by Spanish guitar,
This summer day, you wash your car.
Flamenco skirt, my jaw ajar,
On tippy-toes, you’ve stretched too far!

Then one day, from the box you came,
Bearing junk mail with my name.
I quickly turned to hide my shame.
You’d caught me staring, just the same.

My name, without lifting her head,
From that misguided missive, read.
Upset?  Not yet.  She smiled, instead,
Then took me by my arm, and said,

“I must confide, my next-door boy,
I play with you: my sweetest toy.
All parts and parcels of my ploy,
I mean to share what you enjoy.

“I scrub the floor where you can see.
I perfume all of my laundry.
I softly sing each melody,
And even dress indecently.

“…But spiders cause me grievous fright!
I have a burned-out ceiling light.
So, if you can and think you might,
Come help me with my chores, tonight.”

©2Dec2017 @DracoTalpus

Thin metal man
     arms  opened to the
sky
wet clothes
       rust his feet.

Found the quarters for the laundry
Counted them by loads

We have enough for eight

You picked me up and counted me by mistakes
I weighed a ton but we carried it together after we exchanged numbers

I did the laundry
And week after week
Again and again until we had enough quarters for one last load
And I washed the bed sheets
Figured we could take all our ***** clothes off and lie in the clean there
Because it's nice to have a clean house

We have a clean house
When I can't sleep I scrub the tiles
Until they're bright like the rising sun reminding me
I should have been sleeping
It's okay though
You're asleep and can't tell you're alone
I ask myself while making coffee
If you know
I've got bags underneath my eyes
And the floor is cleaner and cleaner every passing night
And the smell of bleach resonates off the square white tiles
You continue to wake and just smile
Smile
Just smile
Look at me
And smile
Like the world is smooth
And runs on smiles
My insides mock fire
"Are you tired?"
"No I'm just wired,
drank too much coffee
I'm not tired."
You know
And I know you know
I guess you're happy with the clean floors and extra space in the bed
so you don't have to worry about rolling over at night or kicking me

I just cleaned my clothes
Thinking it might wash off
The stains
Left behind
For so many days
And so many nights
I forgot to

Now they will always be there
To remind me
Of the mistakes
You make
When you let something
Linger for too long

I am forever stuck
On spin cycle,
Tumbling around in my own mind.
Drowning,
Gasping,
For air.
I cry out for help,
but no one can hear me
Through the glass.
It seems they can't see me
Either,
As I am somersaulted
Into pain.
I just want someone to be
Gentle.
Cycle,
And all I can think is
Lazy days,
Daisies lay as
I wilt
Among the clothes.

what does coming clean do besides out your ***** laundry?