I want to scream
Scream into my pillow until my throat is raspy
Scream until my lungs give out
Until my head aches and I can\'t breathe.
I rub viscously at my skin
Globs of soap seeping through my fingers,
Painting the floor in white bubbles
Running off my hair and down my back like tentacles
Little circles of red appear as slow trickles of blood form from the too sharp press of my razor
I hold it firmly down as it coasts my leg
I\'m not trying to cut myself or bleed,
I wanna be fucking clean.
It\'s been over a year since his hands and his lips and his body touched mine
Yet I don\'t feel clean.
It\'s impossible to describe the exact senses that come over me;
I panic, it\'s like a panic attack
I grind my teeth together, maybe a tear or two falls
Yet I continue the scrubbing and shaving
The thing that has become a monthly routine
Until I\'m too exhausted to do anymore,
When it seems I\'ve rubbed off a layer of skin
And might have a new, clean body
I finish.
Looking in the mirror - at my tear stained face with sad eyes and dripping wet hair -
You Fucking Idiot.
How will clean me?
He has been inside me
How the fuck will soap on the outside clean that?
It\'s been a year
But sometimes it feels like he\'s still fucking here.
You will never be able to clean yourself
You will never be rid of that
You will never be rid of him
You Fucking Idiot.