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Aug 2018
The glistening tile—
The shiny mirror.

The clear shower curtain—
The silver faucets.

The box of tissues—
The marble counter.

The bright lights—
The green rug.

The green rug
That my knees collapse onto.

The silver faucet
That releases the water
I splash my face with.

The box of tissues—
My only reliable friend.

The marble counter
That I slam my fists on top of.

The door that I lock—
The handle that remains unturned.


Please leave me here


In my place of eternal concern.
Written by
sushii
192
   Pyrrha
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