sometimes rain, sometimes rainbow - poetry collection

yellow tile

staring into the yellow tiles on the shower wall. i let the steaming water cool against my skin. i need to wash these feelings off me. im not a little girl anymore. i am not being exploited. i feel dirty, though i've done worse things. i need to scrub harder, drawing blood may be the only way to cleanse what i'm feeling inside. the hard water stings against the scratches that have begun to appear along my naked body. my naked body. it's just a body. i feel ugly. i feel disgusting. there is dirt beneath my skin and no matter how hard i scrub, i. cant. reach. it. back to the yellow tile. there are six of them. the steam has begun to collect on the walls and spill down as condensation. i am better than this. like i said. i am not a little girl anymore. i am not a child. i am not being exploited. so why do i feel so utterly helpless. used. like that little girl in those photos. the stupid child in me that sold her naked body for male attention. that stupid child. stupid. stupid fucking child. who became a victim of child porn. there are six yellow tiles. it's been five years. he was four states away. its been it's been it's been. two men. and one me. one idiot adult-child staring at the steam collect on the bathroom walls. scrubbing until her blood pools down the drain. i did it again. i sold myself for male attention. and i'm back where i started all those years ago standing in a shower wishing to wash my sins away. i might take up prayer. get on my knees for the right reasons. and beg to be saved. beg him to not let me suffer. i don't know how much more suffering i can take. i state to the yellow tiles and count. one. two. three. four. five. six. i am six rock bottoms too deep. i am five sexual assaults too deep. i am four years too late to save my inner child. i am three men too late. i two religions behind. i am one. on my knees. staring at the yellow tiles. scrubbing until i bleed.