Things you can’t wash away

scalding shower
scouring his touch off my skin
leave purple finger imprints
as I claw
an hour to cool off
can’t give this power to him
glower in the mirror
fade the lights to dim
I feel diseased, like leprosy
still, I take the blame for
his hands on me
I sink to the floor
sick in the back seat
is that what consent means?
this feels beneath me
my eyes are leaking
feel stained by invisible graffiti

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