Getting Clean

I remember washing my hair, upside down over the bathtub.

Wondering if the bubbles close to my scalp could wash away my impure ambitions.

I remember reaching the warmth, pruning my fingertips, twisting my hair and the faucet.

How I wanted to submerge myself until oxygen was forgotten.

I don't remember why I'd been determined to forget how to swim.

All I could see was pink fizz and my mother's hands clenched to my dripping shoulders.

I don't remember what happened after that.

But I sleep with a snorkel now. 

Reviews

[.]

-- haha... this is stunning poetry... -- i've always felt that someone who has a very black sense of humour can write very compelling images... and now this piece just confirms that yet again for me... :p

-- i almost want to say that "impure ambitions" can be washed away... lol... :p

[A.marie.speaks]

Witty and clever. You've tapped into feelings I know very well, of being confused, lost, self mutilation in the quest to find a bit of meaning.

[kyam]

OMG! What a revelation of the inside of a mind! That is amazing! It is a peek in the mind of an addict or of someone on the influence....unbelievable,,,more, more, more, please....Kyam

[Cat]

Thank you so much!! :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this reminds me so much of Plath...and she is one of my two favorites...

the last two lines make me wish i had written them...

and there have been times in my life when i wanted to forget "oxygen"!

[Cat]

Thank you so much! I love Plath as well, that means a lot.