Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
No amount of hot water or mild abrasives
could ever rid me off the scuffs you left,
no crudely colored soaps in queer little packaging,
could ever make me feel clean.

Your attempt to invade the deepest part of me.

I may act like its okay,
but silence is the loudest sound.
Nolithando
Written by
Nolithando
275
   Pax
Please log in to view and add comments on poems