It was supposed to be
handled with care
gently handwashed
in warm clear water
Just reshape
and leave out to dry
clipped to the line
under radiant sunshine
But you threw it into
a low capacity place
one with too many
other articles of loathing
It was overflowing
There is always more space
Why didn't you read the directions?
They are there to protect the fabric
If you were uncertain
Why not ask questions?
You washed it too long
It felt like freezing, cold rain
and though you turned the heat on,
tumbling around with rough canvas
and stiff, rigid cottons
my heart shrunk from the pain
I can't walk out the door
to meet you all or halfway
in something so small
still covered in stains
It looks so worn and shriveled
as it falls to the floor
I have no need for something
that doesn't fit me anymore
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