Contusion

run to the water 

to the shower

the river 

the ocean

to rinse 

to cleanse

the dirt 

left on my flesh 

but the dirt is far from brown

its blue

its purple

its tender 

unnatural 

a mark mother nature could never leave

i cannot be naive 

i know that only someone so evil

could do something

so hateful

This poem is about: 
Me

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