New-- Reader's Submission

I woke up this morning,
feeling like a dirty-dishrag.
Like my body had been used to wipe up someone else's mistakes.
Like I had frayed ends on display.
Like I had,
Holes.
And whereas these did not inhibit me
From rising and greeting that familiar window-sill sun,
They certainly contributed to
Some stiffness-
Some creases-
A damp chill.
You asked me, "How do you feel?"
This is how I feel.
As for,
The clean laminate conscience you carry so well-
The spilled milk you never cried over-
The egg-batter disease which never beat your brow,
never
rendered your body,
fragile and fever-pitch-
No, you'll never see my part in that.
I suppose that's just as well.
I suppose that's not something I shouldn't want anyway.
For what are dishrags?
But harbors-
Pungent after-thoughts.
No.
I say this to you silent as bleach in a bucket;
No.
We are thread.

-Anonymous

(Note to Readers: If you enjoy any submission as much as I enjoy them, and would like to comment, please feel free to send them to the email listed in my profile. I would be happy to pass them along to the author.)

***Keep the wonderful submissions coming!! :) -Phoenix***