Bathe my diseased skin in bleach,
To be white.

I must scrape every grain of dirt
And make it shine,
I would blind,
My whiteness would burn out thine eyes.
I would to turn your flesh to dust.

Porcelain, I radiate and turn you
Submissive
At my feet. And all, I shall scream,
And the walls will ring with my voice;
"You asked to see!
You asked to see!"

And afterward, when all is done,
I shall once again sit, alone.
My skin will heal,
The scars will gray.

Until,

Another comes
To become legend, historic slave,
Then, once again to bathe
And scream that this is me,
Purity.
How it burns.