Sweet Dirt

Enter my home, welcome to my chaos. Enter but watch your step.
Yes, that is a fork next to the dog’s bone in my bed.

I’m not cleaning it up. I never lived to please you. I don’t even know you.
You don’t know me either, yet how dare you judge me?

You threaten to take away my pets, you say this place is too dirty for an animal.
This place is where a human lives, yet the real dirt is not on the floor.

The true dirt lies inside of me.

Inside of me, good and evil are entangled,
Inside of me, flowers drown in vital water.

Inside of me, there is shit more repelling than that beside the cat litter box,
Inside of me, don’t bother watching your steps as you’re paralyzed in darkness.

Enter my home, welcome to a place with no heating.
It’s freezing, so freezing I don’t take showers. Yes, what you’re smelling is me.

I’m not having the heating fixed, and don’t ask why.
Freezing in this dirty place is certain, unlike my hopes for better times.

So cold I don’t clean myself or this dirty place, the cold water hurts too much.
It’s so easy to take a mop and shine the floor, you say, you sheltered fool.

The sheltered fool who thinks he knows.
The sheltered fool who thinks he understands.

Nobody will ever know me.
Nobody will ever understand.

Whatever I try, a sad attempt to improve things temporarily,
What I will get is no more than fleeting joy of life.

Whatever I try and whatever I achieve, it will just vanish again,
So I rather not try at all and live in the certainty of this cold, dirty darkness.

Live in the cold, dirty darkness.
Cold, dark and dirty me.

Cold, dark, dirty me with no hope for improvement,
No belief in warmth, order or beauty, only more chaos, darkness, dirt.

Chaos, all around, oozing from and into me
Darkness in my mind, my soul, my thoughts of you.
Dirt, from and in my mouth and wherever I go.
Cold is my home, cold is my speech.

My hurting soul embraces this dirt, cold and chaos,
This wall between me and a world even colder, even dirtier and so lawfully chaotic.