Drowning

You are just like an old washing machine

that is running on a cold eco-wash.

You consume me, soak me, drown me, drain me  

spin me round and round and spit me back out.

 

Not knowing that you have rusted the cogs, 

that work inside my brain to keep me sane.

Not knowing that you have dampened my mind,  

clouded my thoughts and shrunk all my feelings.

  

I wish I could bring myself to escape

And let the cool fresh air blow straight through me,

under me, over me, and around me  

Till the dirt you’ve stained me with blows away.  

  

You never allow me the time to dry 

You just toss me aside, to the corner

Of a pitch dark, empty and airless room,

letting me suffer in a crumpled mess. 

  

Somehow, I manage to pick myself up 

despite the heaviness of my body 

And I cling to you like a wet t-shirt 

Not wanting to face the world on my own. 

  

And I plead you to iron my creases 

For you to erase the damage you caused 

But you just replace them with new creases 

Ones even more prominent and pronounced 

Author's Note

trying to develop this piece and wondering if the imagery throughout actually works? i wanted to maintain the image of being washed taking it from the washing machine to the effect it has then to trying to dry myself that not working, the person then not allowing me to but me pleading with the person to then support me by ironing out the crease - (fixing the mistakes and damage they have caused).
Does this flow well or is it confusing to read?

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I like the description you have used here. It works quite well, particularly in the first couple of stanzas. The imagery was clear. I also felt the heaviness of this relationship. That was unmistakable. Good to read you Suzanne.

Chris

[Suzanne O'Brien]

Thanks so much Chris. ive been working on it some more today and wondering if you'd be able to give me further feedback? Ive added in more imagery to convey the feeling of being trapped. Do you think this is integrated well? thank you so much in advance.

You are just like an old washing machine
that is running on a cold eco-wash.
You consume me, soak me, drown me, drain me
spin me round and round and spit me back out.

Not knowing that you have rusted the cogs,
that work inside my brain to keep me sane.
Not knowing that you have dampened my mind,
clouded my thoughts and shrunk all my feelings.

And you never give me the time to dry.
You just let me cry and toss me aside.
to a pitch dark, empty and airless room.
Letting me suffer in a crumpled mess.

I let you have the key to my body
Thinking that I could put my trust in you
But you took the key too seriously
And drained all the goodness out of me

I want to escape the lock I'm under
And let the cool fresh air blow straight through me,
under me, over me, and around me
Till the dirt you’ve stained me with blows away.

But instead, I just pick myself back up
despite the heaviness of my body
And I cling to you like a wet t-shirt
Not wanting to face the world on my own.

And I plead you to iron my creases
For you to erase the damage you caused
But you just replace them with new creases
Ones even more prominent and pronounced

I just need to learn to handwash myself
And nurture what is left inside of me
And clean away the dirt, the germs, the smell
Of you.