9/30/10

Socks
By Kelly Daniels


If my love for you were a pair of dirty socks

I would hold them up and say,

“So what am I supposed to do with these?”

You always seem to answer that I should wash them.

Why wash them when you only dirty them again?

Each time you say, “No, I’ve cleaned the floor!”

It will always be better the next time.

I always believe that you’ve put in hard work.

But the bottom of the socks only becomes blacker and blacker.

There’s no bleach strong enough anymore.

I won’t scrub them when you haven’t worked.

I’m so tired of cleaning; I spend so many more hours than you.

I always did.

They are black because of your floor.

I know you think I always put it all on you.

I guess it’s true. I’m sorry you do not like that.

I can only wash the socks. And I do, I always did.

But I cannot clean the floor. It belongs to you.

And if you will not clean the way you know you should, you must, to keep the socks clean.

I must stop washing.

I will stop washing.

I am throwing them out.

Eventually, I do not know when, the garbage man will take them.

Today, the socks are still in my trashcan, but soon the garbage man will take them.

And they will be gone.


- - -
I am a 21 year-old, female, junior in college. I believe my true writing talent is in journalistic writing but every once in a while I write a creative piece that I think my have something to offer someone else. I think this is fun and have no lofty creative writing aspirations.