I haven't vacuumed for three years.
I can't.I CAN'T.
Every time I turn the vacuum on
I fall to pieces
Trembling, shaking
Collapsing in a puddle of tears
My little dog runs to his kennel
Seeking the safety of walls and bars
To protect him from the machine
That makes such noise
The cage that surrounds me
Is not a cage of safety
The walls and bars hem me in
Squeezing like a trash compactor
As the vacuum noise
Sucks me dry
Leaving only guilt behind
Zombie-ish nightmares
Of brains being sucked out
As my son died
O God, can You ever forgive me?
Never mind.
I don't think that there's any way
I could ever
Forgive myself.
How ironic that it's the sound of the
Vacuum.
Because that's what I'm left with:
Nothing.
Empty arms.
Empty heart.
Vacuum.
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