You sighed,
Wanted her to be clean
Not the kind of clean that bathed themselves everyday,
Dabbled on the prettiest perfumes
Did their makeup like the most talented artist

You wanted her to be clean in the way that she didn’t tear herself open.
To be clean in the way that showers didn’t sting like alcohol in a wound
You wanted her to not have stained thoughts every time she saw a blade to not have to the wipe blood off her skin every time you couldn’t be there
You wanted her to be clean in the way that your love could make her whole

Purging her skin like it is filled with maggots
Wiping it with a blade as if it is the softest towel
Feeling the warmth like the Sun on a cold morning, blood dripped down her body.
Offering her a fleeting comfort you could never understand

How could it be that you look at those parts of her with such disgust?
Pulling the fabric of her clothes over them like a curtain of shame
Unable to bear the sight of something so grotesque.

They are the realest parts of her,
showed the raw truth of what ugliness she brews
the only parts of her she found peace in,
The only parts she finds pretty.

She is here.
you do not care if she is clean or *****
Because you realized all she could ever do was drag you through the darkness and contaminate you.