a routine to maintain upkeep

With the cloth in my hand
I wipe away the dust, the grime,
make the porcelain shine white
and smell like lemons.

Week after week, it’s become a routine
to maintain upkeep.

With the breath flowing in and out of my nose,
I wipe away the splattered remnants
of anxiety’s lashes,
where she’s struck out against my body,
trying to take control of me.
My breath restores the light,
so I can shine, and smell like lemons.

Day after day, moment after moment,
minute after minute,
it’s become a routine
to maintain upkeep.