I am...

...being stripped by you

Drowning in a scent of happiness in a room of crowded four walls.
She is slowly burning from the outside,
To deep inside.
The white, clean, tiles all perfectly squared.
Are judging, surrounding, suffocating, her naked, wet, body.
The smooth water soaking it with thoughts of guilt...maybe sadness?
The water tastes salty.
Is it the red colouring from the flower carefully broken
Or the tears forcing itself out from her no longer innocent eyes.
Cradling herself in wonder,
Is this truly a comforting warmth?
Or one to burn her into ecstasy realising she is not the worth.
Judgements are thrown
From the white curtains
The white door
The white walls
And the white tub.
The white tub in which restricts her from leaving
To breathe in positivity.
The only thing indifferent is the shimmering silver taps in which mockingly states she is second best!
Second best?
Second choice!
He is finished with her.
He is bored.
He needs a new body to discover
And to explore.
With your permission of course.
But why bother asking if you've assured him you already want him?
Desperate, poor, child!
She made it easy, too easy.
You can't regret it if it was your choice.
No force,
Just false production of feelings.
It's okay though. It's a process.
Once he's explored, has his fun.
He will give you
A loving kiss goodbye.
And soon enough,
These white walls will no longer bother,
To protect your innocence.
Instead they will make you cry
And turn your bath water into salt
Drowning you with soft water.
Clothing your naked body wet.
It's the soft ones you need to be fearful of.