Washing Machine

He was a heavy drunk
just like my father,
but no matter how
bad things got,
I didn't have the heart
to push him away.

I tried to stop
counting the nights
he left me alone
with the children
and gave his love to the bottle.

He used to be my everything,
but now all I've been holding
onto is the loose lint
that falls from the pockets
of his dirty jeans
when I clean them
in the washing machine.