Sometimes when I bathe,
I wish that the cold, running
water can seep right through,
And put out the ember
that sizzles for acceptance.

And when I look at
the foggy mirror right after,
An unexplained angst
overpowers myself,
Yet, it's unfathomed as to why.

And when the warm hug of
a towel envelops me,
Half my heart hopes
that it could dry the still running tears
of yesterday, too.

And when I put on a crisp
clean shirt,
Then lie on the bed,
I close my eyes, and say,
"It'll be if He says it is to be".