I stepped into the shower after taking the agonizing minutes to remove my baggy clothes, knit with my self-esteem, from my cryptic body.

I shivered as the ice caps of my swollen heart flexed.

As the water danced about my body, I felt you.

If I opened my mind, squinted my eyes, and cocked my head forty-five degrees to the right

I could convince myself it really was you.

The water trickled over the places you’d tickle your fingers.

Rained on my face where you used to spontaneously plant your kisses.

I clenched my eyes tight- I can’t bear to lose this moment.

My corpse of a heart was ignited by the heat of the water

and the thought of you.

I breathed in your memory and it flooded my cerebral cortex.

Sensory overdrive.

Soon, my shower ended and I begrudgingly stepped onto the linoleum floor.

When I dare steal a glance at my somber reflection, I felt the iciness coming back.

My heart hardened.

You taught me how to love myself.

Now look at me.