Stained with love
Bleached with love
All my shirts smell like harsh chemicals
From something I've been fearing of
So much I put it through the needles
For if the scent sticks to skin
It would surely start bothering
Dirtied with love
Washed with love
I scrub and scrub until the water's red
Yet, I kneel to pray to something above
Because the ***** outline is to spread
For if the muck doesn't go away
I think I may be obliged to stay