Life is tumbling, spinning, whirling out of control
like my thoughts are a tornado spun by someone else’s hands
and it is put on display so others can replay
the awesome tragedy for their own awful pleasure
Watching it spin over and over again
my life events dirty laundry stripped of their hard earned grit
in a washer, the motion mesmerizing
Stop!
Don’t breathe, you’ll tell too much
You’ll tell the truth
Do you want mothers or worse the future
to see that?
If the answer is yes, you’re wrong
Laundry must be clean
even if it’s a lie
When I write I become a muckraker
For my own life
Piling mud of truth and pain on to
The clean clothes
Even if it’s only for me to see