Poem for Obsessive Cleaning: Washing Away

Washing Away 

She washes, she washes, she washes
She washes it all away 
Perhaps shes’s praying for lightening 
But that god doesn’t appear in May 

She washes it all away 
Watching the washing spin around 
Imagining the dirt as it hits the ground 
Absorbed into the earth as it falls deeper down 

Has it disappeared ?
Is it still really here ?
That dirt she felt 
When she touches what feels like felt ? 

She’s lost her sense of green 
Her right to be seen 
She can’t see the trees 
Or bare dirty knees 

So she washes and washes 
She believes shes’s washed it away 
This ritual, she believes keep her thoughts at bay 
That remind her of sunlight in May 

Perhaps one day she’s dive deeper down 
Perhaps one day she’ll wonder whats within her dark frown 
Perhaps one day she’s allow the pain to rise 
Perhaps one day she’ll allow herself to really feel whats inside 

Zoe L L

I’m Zoe Langman, a 45-year-old welsh Nomad. On December 19th, 2017, I packed up my flat, put all my essentials into a suitcase, and started my Nomadic Journey. I don't think it's ever too late to reinvent or redesign your life.

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