Dirt

i feel the residue
sticking to my
sweaty body
clinging
to my skin
infecting my pores
and i inspect
the contamination
that has occurred

the longing
for cleanliness
and the need
to disinfect
swirl around
my brain

who knew
that dirt
could affect
the brain.
but when a brain
is broken
and has lost
parts of its humanity,
it is susceptible
to being poisoned
by dirt

my brain
is swollen
with thoughts
of discomfort,
polluted with fear
of impurities.
my brain
has lost
its rationality,
my sense of logic
has drained from me

the dirt
leaves
a stench
that only i
can smell,
a stench
that i can’t ignore,
a stench
that my brain picks up
the scent of,
a stench
that can’t
be washed off,
a stench
that feels impossible
to rid myself of

my body
is infested,
infected,
invaded
by dirt,
swarming my body
and brain

the dirt
is not real dirt
it’s imagined dirt
that can’t
be exterminated
or extracted
like i wish for.
it is a part of me
that is always there,
a piece of me
that is never bear,
ne
as much
as i want
and try
for it to dissipate
deplete
dissolve
and disappear.