Shoes and Clothes

I hate shoes.

I trip over my own,

I trip over those of others,

I trip.

I cannot escape. They're everywhere.

No matter what I see more and more shoes.

I do not know where they come from,

And I do not care.

I want them gone.

I hate clothes,

I wash them. I fold them.

I get too tired to put them away.

The next day there are more,

And I have to wash them all

I cannot escape,

I cannot call for help,

I can only cry and seethe and yell and scream and throw and refuse to eat until I do the task I have to do

It will never be done. I will never see the floor. I will never escape.

Can we throw some away?

"Why not donate or sell them?"

As long as you take care of it yourself? I don't want to do it.

"But why?"

I struggle to answer. I'm already burnt out.

I have tried this before.

No one wants to buy my clothes,

I cannot walk straight,

Much less carry clothes,

Without a car,

To a donation center.

I want to rest.

"I don't see why we can't do this together"

I know why,

And I do not want to go through with:

The Sorting

The Fighting

The Organizing

The Waiting

The Hauling

The Pain

The Agony

I want it done. I want them gone. I want it clean. I'm exhausted.

The landlord is coming,

And the place is a mess,

Why can't you see that we have no

Time

Energy

Patience

Luxury

To just say over and over,

That these Shoes and Clothes,

Will be away?

I am Tormented by this.

The cats hide everywhere.

I cannot relax.

I cannot rest.

I will always be trapped.