Cleansing a Cleansing Sponge

I soak up water, then I drip with wine
I soak up smoke, then you breathe, its fine
I soak up hurt, then I drip laughter and smile
I soak nerves, you squeeze, and down your arm ooze calm

Then I get dirty, and start to ooze the reverse
while I still try to reverse
the things in reverse
Fed up, then soaked up words, that bled into verse

Now God must wash what my pores have kept with it;
soul was blackened with
The loss of two, is what I wash it with
It pains, it burns as boiling water is washing it
I cling to God, Or else I’ll be washed with it

I pray for better days
Days I can drip good again
and in my rearview, be glad this was me
But now it hurts, as God is purging me
Renewing: getting a cleansing sponge dirt free

Seasonal

Sometimes I dig,
sometimes I scratch
some days I fend for others
Some days, I suck milk; mothers’

Some weeks I shoot for the heavens
some weeks, I shoot for the root
and some, I cease to shoot

Today I’m a wild fire
tomorrow, I lack desire

Some days I love
somedays I’m graven
Somedays, I’m dove
Another, I’m raven

Somedays I’m winter
others, Summer
maybe Spring
or even, Fall

A seasonal being
I flirt with four seasons
mess with weathers
then split, to double date day and night

Bipolar, Multi-personality, or just human
simply complicated as the sides of a die; human
As with different folks, different strokes
We dress: different days, different cloaks