Obsessive Clean
- The Write Way SVA Literary Magazine
- Sep 24, 2024
- 1 min read
Anonymous
High School Student
August/September 2024
I scrub the day from off my skin,
A ritual of start, again.
Each surface speaks its secret grime,
A stain of thought, a mark of time.
I wash my hands, I wash once more,
But shadows linger on the floor.
An unseen smudge,
a hidden trace,I chase it, yet it hides its face.
Clean is quiet. Clean is still.
The world outside bends to my will.
But in my mind, a restless storm,
Where perfect never takes a form.
The water soothes, the soap relieves,
But dirt in thoughts, it never leaves.
I seek a peace that’s hard to find,
In spotless rooms, in ordered mind.
To feel clean is a fleeting flight,
A battle fought in day and night.
And though I try, and though I weep,
The dirt remains, so buried deep.
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