Filthy Pov !!better!! ★ Trusted

Because once you accept the filth—once you make it your point of view—you realize you were never above it anyway. You were just pretending.

My POV is a cracked lens. A greasy thumbprint smeared across the camera of the world. When I look at your white tablecloth, I don’t see elegance. I see the last hundred sweaty palms that touched it before the busboy wiped it down with a rag he hasn't washed in three shifts. When I shake your hand, I’m not feeling a greeting. I’m feeling the dead skin cells flaking off your knuckles, the microscopic mites nesting in your cuticles, the ghost of the bathroom door handle you didn’t wash after. filthy pov

Filthy is the knowledge of it.

You walk through the world trying to stay clean. You hold your breath near dumpsters. You use a paper towel to touch the gas pump. Because once you accept the filth—once you make