Clean my Closet

This was written around the one year anniversary of my SA and helped me to process

today i clean my closet

i pull down all the pairs of pants

one by one

refold them and put them back

all organized

all in tact

i get to my vinyls on the floor

stacked in a row

one is out of place

in order to right it

i must take off the bags sitting on top

of the stack

one by one

i carefully place them around me

bags from parades filled with love

bags filled with memories

bags filled with bloody clothes

i reach for the one that

stops the air from reaching my lungs

the irony of the bright red target logo

as i untie the handles

the scent wafts toward me

hitting me like a hurricane

i smell him

their home

the death of me

the t-shirt smeared with shame

the favorite pants never to be worn again

why am i doing this to myself

i ask

i am hurting myself

i wish the murder of my past self

more permanent than this

i want to crawl out of my skin

i want to tie my hair

tight around my mouth like a gag

rip every finger nail off for not scraping

every skin cell of his from me

gauge out the eyes

so focused on friendship

i never realized when i was defending her

i was becoming his new prey

i walked in

alone

i ran out

alone

i delicately fold the clothes

placing them back in the sack

and right back where it was before

to the floor

i fall over

rocking myself gently

self soothing for a moment

happy one year of healing

i hate cleaning my closet