Threads of the past tied a knot in my side
 afraid to weave them,
 cannot allow them them unfurl

I keep my nightmares in my pocket,
you know, the kind that go on without end
you’re never sure you are getting anywhere
you move too slowly, like you’ve been drugged
    you’re either in trouble,
     late,
    or just plain vulnerable

Mine is a crime scene
 floral wallpaper
 the smell of him in the laundry
 residue of piss blamed on former residents
 lint and hair in the bathtub drain

     I don’t want to touch it
     I want to know
     I don’t want to know
     I want to touch it

Don’t disturb the debris
 hang up the wet towel on the shower rod
 keep the fuzzy toilet seat cover neatly in place
 but you left your underwear on the floor
     sloppy

I smell 409 and antibacterial soap
 you clean that shit up
Don’t let anyone see the dirt
My body is dirty
 you clean that shit up

Hide your eyes
Hide the inside of your head

Coming here now I thought to have it out with you
 but it’s empty, just as you left me

I won’t touch it
I will go about my own business
Take a shower, run a bath
Take a shit, wash my hands
Lather, rinse, repeat