I sit on the small, linoleum square that makes up the bottom
of my shower.
The water is hot,
120 degrees or so,
and I press my face against the cool glass
of the sliding door.
My music is playing but I can't hear it
the light is flickering but I can't see it
the water is scalding but I can't feel it.
I hear only the water falling from the shower head
see only the mist on the glass
feel only the wasting away of my heart and sanity.
And this is me,
baring my soul before you,
for nobody knows how much this is hurting me.
And as I watch the water swirl past my legs
and down the drain,
I wish I could go down the drain
with it.