Bipolar washing
A tear tears my mask
The tear tears up in kind
I am Mr. Washingmachinehead, watch the thoughts spin round and round. Frantically they churn. To what end? To be “clean”? Is this just to sterilise my mind?
Then the spinning stops, and my thoughts slump to the bottom. Damp and going cold. They all just become one single lump, too heavy to move on its own.
What programme am I on? If I could figure that out maybe it would all make more sense. Someone please empty me, I want to feel light again.
Advertisement

