Dirty Fingers

Talking to you feels violating

Like dirty fingers sifting through my mind.

I can’t ignore the traces of you,

You leave greasy fingerprints behind.

No matter how hard I try,

The vestige of your filth remains.

Words that taunt me in whisper,

Blend in amongst other mud stains.

Grime lingers from your sick smile,

Turning my white matter darker gray.

You have killed the lamb of my mind,

My brain has become its own prey.

Thought you were sneaky, didn’t you?

When you groped my frontal lobe.

But your conniving moves were detected,

I’m scrubbing your shadow with nettle soap.