Oliver Pursley Poet Free verse

YEAR OF THE DOG

I want so badly to go back to 2018
To the year when I was pure and innocent
And so easily influenced
And the year that I didn’t even know my family was falling apart

My mother told me that it was the year of the dog
And I watched her slowly die 3 easters later
And the blood of my family is splattered on my hands
But the thing with blood is that you can’t just
Go back in time
To
Get
Rid
Of
It.
No one would opt to cover up their bloody hands with white paint
Or soft melodies
Or lies
You’ve got to scrub
Until your skin is raw
And even now I catch a glimpse of blood hiding under my nails 
Or between my fingers
And I remember that I will never be a blank slate
And I can never be fully clean

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