the dirt unseen

there’s dirt again

beneath my fingernails

buried deep

I could try to scrub

try to wash and dry

but the dirt

is not physical or tangible

the dirt is there

but only I

and those I’ve hurt

can see it

the dirt is a reminder

of past offences

of past digresses

the dirt, though invisible

is visible always

the dirt is a reminder

I am no better than I ought to be

my self-confidence

needs to be held accountable

kept in check

even when I shower

wear something fresh and clean

the dirt is ever present

ever marking me

#

rather than despising the dirt

feeling its weight on me

I look at the dirt

as a reminder

of what I have been

of what I have done

past tense, not present tense

the dirt is the remnant

it serves as a warning

to not overreach myself

to not think too much

to know that even as I stand

I can and will fall again

into the dirt

the dirt

that finds its way

under my fingernails

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: This poem was originally published on Medium via Scuzzbucket on Apr 6, 2025. You can view the original here.

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