night falls like eyelids
on the brink of sleep—
I lay on ***** sheets,
no fault but my own

there are 432 tiles
in my shower stall
I count them everyday,
twice a day,
three times,
four if it’s real bad

after the fith time there
is no more counting,
or singing, or crying,
just being.

water falls off my body,
into the drain,
and i go with it.