My Washing Machine

I’m fascinated by my washer
I can watch it spin all day
Except, it doesn’t hold my clothes
It just spins my life away
 
The water gushes in my soul
And I struggle now to breathe
But she’s put the wash on cold
And I can never be free
 
I can see myself staring
Into the open abyss
I’m banging on the glass
Then there’s this sudden flash
 
I hold my breath one last time
My memories come flooding back
But now I’m stuck in the pocket,
Of my blue jeans, being washed clean
 
I watched myself walk away
And my mum sat down to take my place
She could see the horror in my face
‘Shush now, you’ll soon be safe’
 
My clothes are pushing me down
The soap is stinging my eyes
The banging of the mental drum
She walks away. Leaving me to cry
 
Finally I stop spinning
She leans over to take me out
I’m gasping for my breath
There’s nothing of me left
 
I can smell the aerial on me
One hundred percent clean
I can’t remember who I wanted to be
Just what I want my mum to see