Pilate

I step into the shower,
Trying to wash your trace off
Even after months,
But no amount of physical cleansing will purge you from my mind.
The boy who threatened suicide when I left.
Now, as you stand on your own Golgotha,
Would you believe me if I told you
That they told me to?
If I told you it was a decision they made
And that they led me along?
I won't lie to you, as your heart fails,
I was glad of it.
Glad of a decision made for me.
Glad to be rid of you
Even though now you still cling to me,
An emotional odour,
As clingy as you were with us.
And though I slave away,
Trying to wash you from me,
I will only regret my actions at The Rapture.