CleanMature

Ever since you left

I've washed my hands a lot

Not to be clean

I know I'll never be clean again

But at least 

When I bite my nails

Down to the bloody quick

I'll taste the acidity of cheap dish soap

Instead of black coffee and nicotine

And I can pretend

If just for a second

That there's nothing left of you

To scrub away

The End

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