Mop Bucket

I am scrubbing the floor at 3 am with every swipe I think your name once held so dear The floor now shiny and clean muck and mire all washed away dawns pale light contrasts what swirls in the mop bucket of my mind... dirty thoughts snarling biting clinking tapping cluttered stairs tripping falling edge of night blocked out Sun fighting light erase unwanted tumbled jumbled spit stained name corrupted in my head ringing clanging banging to be free so in the silence kill these words before they kill me M S 7/20/15 footnote: while it's not possible to make spit stains unless you're tobacco chewer it was only my mental imagery of how I did feel about this person.. I have since mentally set this ruined relationship aside in my head, but the pain still lives. Short of a form of brainwashing I guess there's no escape from remembering lost loves.