This was just something I was thinking about earlier.
I let the hot water hit me
Slap me and make ugly red marks
Yet, this is considered beautiful
To have almost every inch of me touched
By angry water
I stand
Running a sponge across my skin
With a body wash that is supposed
To make my skin soft
But it doesn't
I touch
Parts of me that I'm told not to
Or I'll burn in an inferno after
Death
I'm not supposed
To touch these secrets
These quiet parts of me
The soft skin and pink folds
Of the most private places
Yet,
I am in this moment
I'm encouraged to let my
Hands roam
To supposedly clean me
I stand
I front of a steamed over mirror
Looking at this
Sin that I am
My body
Why
Am I sinful
For something
I am unable to control
— Kath
