In the shower letting the water hit me like bullets on my  back. The dirt stays under my fleshy pink skin, never to be removed, ****** to be apart of me forever.
desperate to be cleansed like I have a disease and I do have an illness, but it came in the shape of a young man, with blond curly hair his friendly smile that you could trust, he smelt like adventure. His words of velvet felt nice in my palm.
But velvet turned to sand paper and adventure turned to danger. The bugs stay under my skin, they all have his face and his hands as I remember them, around my throat. I scrub around my chest and down to my hips, every inch that he infiltrated. I will wipe away every trace of his finger prints from my thighs. My skin turns into soft concrete, the water feels like second degree burns on my memory, but I still cant seem to forget.