too far on the outside
to attempt to look in
hands dried and cracked
from the cold and smelling
of Murphys Oil Soap
as I try to scrub my floors
and clean away
my last memories
of him
And when there’s silence
I daydream scenes
Of him seeing me at my
Most beautiful
Most charming
Most wanted
So again I begin
To scrub and scrub
Leaving floors clean
But the spot in my heart
That he did not earn
Will not leave
Sometimes the images of what could be
Are stronger than the truth
Of what is
Heeding Lady Macbeth’s call
Seeing things that aren’t there
Driven insane
From loneliness and the tricks
Loneliness plays on my heart
Out out!
Yet I keep on scrubbing
And I smell the Murphys Oil soap
And I feel my cracked, dry hands
And I see my clean floors
But I still can’t scrub him away
I never even had a chance
To fall in love
My house has never been
So clean
1 day ago
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