Dirty
Dishes
The
scent
is
unbearable
high
heels,
blistered
feet,
and
crushed
toes
are
un-‐wearable.
Smirking
in
a
reflection
half
detecting
another’s
scent.
Losing
my
mind
over
common
sense.
It’s
an
abominations
quaking
and
shaking,
lying
awake,
just
forsaking
an
average
quack.
Laughing
at
myself
while
punching
at
my
own
back.
By
Harvey
Black
7