there are stains on the bedsheets of my past

blood and other substances

spilled alcohol and spilled love

spilled promises and spilled drugs

there are stains on the bedsheets of my past

that don't seem to wash out or go away

i can't bleach them pure

and i can't pretend they're not there

there are stains on the bedsheets of my past

things i've done that no one will forgive me for

things i've thought and things i've wanted

reasons for you to show me to the door

there are stains in the bedsheets of my past

and i look at them and wonder why i don't just toss out

these wrinkled, dirtied sheets

and i wonder why i'm so content

to sleep in them