Dirty words.
Whispering from lips.
Ringing in my ears.
Screaming all my fears.
Tainted colors,
Fill the mirror.
I try to wipe it away.
It stains my hands.
It smears,
as I wipe my tears.
Covering me.
Tainting me.
They make me dirty.
Even after I scrub.
It lingers.
Contaminating me.
Slowly I become dirtier.
Until I want to dirty others.
They are so clean.
Why do they get to be clean?!
While I'm trapped in these dirty colors.
With my tainted hands,
I stain them.
The endless cycle of
Dirty words.
Submitted: October 19, 2014
© Copyright 2023 MissingHeartl102. All rights reserved.
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quetzala
very good and unique poem
Mon, October 20th, 2014 3:49pmAuthor
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Thank you
Fri, May 29th, 2015 3:41pm