Clean My Windows

All I need is some window cleaner…

As I- gaze into the reflection that is my past, I noticed that I haven’t gotten too far passed it… It is my present- my once and forever gift.  I see myself in those early years, from four years old to six, and I see that uncle who stuck his hands in until my pants ripped.  Acting like it was a massage, asking me could I feel it, he treated me like a prescription, as if any wound he had- I could heal it.  And yes it was true, I could feel his fingers dance and as, I saw the bulge in dear uncle’s pants the dim light glinted off his zipper and left me in a trance… until he was done.  This continued only a few years, but that was far too long, now I’m pre-pubescent with all my innocence gone. My understanding of my reality hinges upon my pants being gone… If only I could free myself of this transparency, and see my future in a mirror…

All I need is some window cleaner…

All I need is a cool lake of febreze, to turn my sexuality down a few degrees, and relieve me of this stink.  Present day, I have transcended where the last stanza ended, and now my most comfortable stance in life is- up-ended.  Head over heels, with my heels over my head, you’ve turned bedrocking into a song, but Mr. Flintstone is now my dread.  My legs, were parked with a few cars before I learned to drive, now with open eyes I can see that – it’s turned into a traffic jam.  Open up a mom and pop diner, because I sank into this lifestyle and cannot lift any higher.  No I’m not a streetwalker, don’t self myself to any buyers, but I need that thing in rubber like car wheels need some tires… So much fun, yet morbidly siphoning me of my life energy.  I look into my life, and I see I’m heading for the end of me.  Lack of self control, plus a need for psycho-therapy, has left living with a splint- I’m limping.  Heavily.  If only I could forget… If only I could look forward… If only I was blind to my dirt, and beheld solely that which was a cleaner…

All I need is some window cleaner…

All I need is some assistance to kill the part my intelligence that insists on remembrance.  Remembering all the lies… All the times guys had ignored my cries… Not one, not two, not even three, but FOUR uncles inside… A mom that was powerless, so ruled with her thunder thighs, causing a storm, but making it rain, and that’s how we barely got by.  All the men- no the BOYS- who liked what they saw… All the times I huddled to myself at night, whimpering before God… Why- me…?  Why…. ME?!  What did I do that you hate me so??  And how did I offend your soul, so much that this thing that is apart of me is severely stunting my growth??  I wind it like a snake, and go down like mole, and I invite all curious spelunkers to explore inside my hole… but no.  It is various forms of death… Death that I choke on because every day I live with hurt, longing, and regret that I can never forget… I just wanna get free… I want to erase history… I want to wake up one day, and there be only- ME.

All I need…

All I need…

Is some window cleaner…..



~The Wordsmith


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