Wash away the sins
Wash away the fingers
Wash away the marks
Wash away the pain

A small child
All but five
Thinks such thoughts. . .

Now he writes,
He writes in fury
In anger
In tears

How could he
Why me
What did I do?

He blames himself for enticing ****
He blames himself for not yelling during the pain
He blames himself as he drinks pills and lays
And the only thought
Is
“Hopefully I don’t wake”
I don’t want to feel this ***** ****.