Laundry

I washed laundry, I sorted laundry, I tried to make sense of it. Laundry kept showing up all over the place. Under things, piled up. I kept washing it, drying it, I ruined it. I was ruining your life, like I was ruining the laundry. I didn't mean to ruin the laundry, or your life. Hospitals. Photoshoots. Fear. Almost making it to detox. There is a problem. Now no problem. I feel radioactive.

I aim to get better at everything, which is the whole problem -- unrealistic goals. I fold laundry, just my own laundry, and understand why people loathe me. They hate me because of my grasping, and how I can't stop.

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For Rachel