Clean white foam fills the drain.

Her skin turns red but she feels no pain.

The water bill is high this month. Again.

Maybe after this wash, she’ll feel sane.

That’s what she thought after the last one, and the last one. Life has become so mundane.

Soap can’t seem to wash away his scent.

Scrubbing herself raw, the bubbles won’t bring back her innocence.

His stench is glued to her skin. The skin he touched without her consent.

Wash cloth after wash cloth.

A new one each shower. They all get tossed.

His dirty hands stained her involuntarily.

Clean is no longer in her vocabulary.