A Clean Sink is Necessary – River Dixon


I can’t get the stain

From my hands

Scalding, castile mornings

Bleach and razor blades

Sloughing the scale from

Flaking, disintegrating fingers

Clogged drain, mold and hair

Alcohol drips with purpose

Down the leading edge

Of your grandfather’s

Antique barber’s shears

Ceremoniously honed

For such an occasion

Nails, one, two, another

Meticulously torn

From the cuticle, bleeding

Next, the fingers are easily

Cut, what’s left, removed

Walls painted, room filled

Adorned with sickness

The cleansing requires depth

And the process unforgiving

Until forgiveness is found

Among the scattered

Remnants of exposure

The stain spreads, up the arm

Past the elbow, shoulders

Brittle, greasy hair, wired

The stain shrouds the scalp

Clumps, tufts fall, decorating

The porcelain beneath sticky feet

Toes spread to collect the offering

It’s better this way

Or at least necessary, to unravel

Shine some light on what sleeps

At the core of all this

Before the hands grow back

And the stain returns

to read more from River Dixon at ‘The Stories In Between’: https://thestoriesinbetween.com/

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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