The Shower
By catseyes
Scalding water pounds my skin. I want to drown. I grab the bar of soap and frantically begin scrubbing. Eyes closed, careful, —careful, don’t press the blue marks. I am still cold, shivering, shaking, barely breathing. I choke on the steam, and whisper —take the air. Your semen is seeping. The drain is sucking as fast as it can. My hands press against the wall, stablize something. Blood flows down my inner thigh. I can’t even call it mine. It is mixed with you. I wash, I scrub, I scour, I search for clean. I search for clean. An hour later, I shower again.not a pretty poem... Written January 14th, 2002 © on Jan 14 2002 09:31 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Scalding water..."