Scrub, scrub, scrub,
Never good enough
I’m stuck in a time loop
Of endless handwashing
Touch the faucet
Scrub, scrub, scrub again
Touch the soap dish
Scrub, scrub, scrub again
Water too hot
Go to the other bathroom
Scrub, scrub, scrub again
Take three steps from the sink
Have to turn around and
Scrub, scrub, scrub again
Forget where I was going
What I was doing
Repeat from the beginning
Scrub, scrub, scrub all over
Wash all the dirt off my hands
And my mind
Clear my brain to focus
On the task ahead
I can’t stop until I’m ready
I’m perfect.
Or the idea of having unclean hands
Slithers around my head
A poisonous snake.
While I’m washing and clearing my mind,
Time ticks on
Aggressively,
Relentlessly.
I have nothing to show for my hard work
But clean hands.
4 comments:
So poignant & on point. I have seen a friend do so and it was painful. Love the last line.
Thank you! It is painful, but if I don’t repeat until perfection...hmm, that might be another poem.
How do your hands cope with all the scrubbing and hand washing? The first couple of months during the pandemic and my skin was a mess, sore, and bleeding
I’ve struggled with it at times, but I found these clay and oatmeal bar soaps at Dollar Tree that really keep the cracking down to a minimum.
I think, with OCD, you’re trying to scrub off the contamination, while I’m just trying to get my hands perfectly clean so I can touch something with clean hands.
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