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Amare Leslie Nov 11
Trees start to undress as showers of rain fall cleanse them
Winds blow dry their hair before starting another day
Quixotic Nov 9
Sprawled longways 'neath the blankets on your mattress
My ears fervently absorb you through the walls.
Hazy rivers cascade from your shower head—
The cadence soothing and familiar.
Lathered soap foam leaves your skin and slaps the floor—
Deep-voiced Goliath strugg'ling to roll his Rs.
Then the giant goes still.
All is silent but the overhead fan.

Curtain sliding
Towel drying
Muffled footprints 'pon the carpet...
The bedroom door creaks open
To the whisper of my spreading smile.
Faith Oct 26
hunched over
in the shower
cold water
spraying down

you shiver
I trace your exposed spine
my finger
and whisper
"come closer"
sage short Oct 16
Taking a deep breath is hard when your neck is being squished. And your eyes are wet, painted with tears.
I hate holding them back. The “crying breath” I have is uneven. ‘I’m just sniffling!’ type of sniffles, as if there’s not snot running up and down my nostrils.
I get in a steaming hot shower; not wanting to bathe, but wanting to escape. Watching beads of water hit my raised skin calms my heartbeat, but also gives me a sense of sadness. When you’re sad, you start to notice little things like the pattern of your breath, the serious line spread upon your lips when someone tells a joke in hopes of cheering you up, the gulps you take, and your milky, glazed eyes staring blankly back at you in the mirror you haven’t cleaned in weeks because you didn’t have enough energy to walk up and down the stairs to get the cleaner and to put it back. You start to pretend. You pretend to love, and to hate. You hate the world and everyone so much, but only because you are hurting and you don’t want to hurt others by letting them in, or them to hurt you too.

Nonetheless, you hurt anyway.
stopdoopy Nov 22
Getting soaked to the bone

Until some kind people stopped

And offered me an umbrella

A hot shower
A warm meal
A cozy fire

And a new home

Don't come knocking on my door
When you've seen I've found better

Because the rain has stopped

And all I have left to give

Is a scorching heat to burn you with
For this Thanksgiving I wanted a poem that was happy but I decided to post this one instead and i chose it because maybe it by itself isn't happy but the stuff behind it is. Dedicated to my friends who've helped me, and honestly are just there in my day to day life, you guys feel like my family and I love you all.
Time slowly wasted
On crying in the shower
To mask the sound of pain
And tomorrow at 5pm
One will cry again
Tears washed away and hidden
By the rainfall above
Life is difficult
When you're in love.
Nateive Son Sep 1

I woke up this morning
Only to realize
That my teenage years
And those after
Have been spent chasing a dream of ether...

That my pants were too tight
Because my blood flow works properly
And secretly
I wanted to wear a flag
All the time...

So I'm glad
That they still make science books
Two feet thick and fifty pounds
To cover the natural responses
Of 15-year-old boys everywhere
During the Pledge of Allegiance...

This was made crazier
By attending the Catholic school system
Where it could never be acknowledged
That these ****** and wet *******
Were running around WILD
No restraints
As nature intended....

But I've learned to take it in stride
And I always laugh about it now
Because it's not that serious
It's not that special
It is what it is....

What makes it even funnier
Is that the gag
Keeps perpetuating itself again and again
Throughout time
Throughout universes
Without fail...

Is the biggest run joke of all time
I'm in on it.

You should laugh more, because this is all going to be over soon enough:

Popleocan Aug 28
I take showers in the dark,
My senses overwhelmed,
I'm compulsively compelled to lose a friend.

Screaming flesh cries out,
My buried eyes blind now.
As wet rough trains crash into my skin.


Insanity is my definiton.
As vanity is my protection.
My heart like a prisoner tries to escape her cage.
Yet still i find my her hung.
Dead again.
Without much time.
To age.

The cuts and scars and burns of pains i've no courage left to think.
So i wash my body like my hands as the dirt drains down the sink.


The dark is all I see.
I'll let no light wash over me.
Drip drip.
My heart is warmed.
Lost all hope, yet im not alarmed.
Drip drip.
My skin screams out.
The rain and darkness drown it out.

Black fog forces a deeper breath.
Releases the chains that compress my chest.

My new heart is born, warmed and free.
And now again i do my part.
Until the time i return.
For cleansing in the dark.

Lost Aug 25
The edge of the bathtub
Wrapped in cotton security

but not from the cold

The feeling of my pulse
in my throat
Closing in
On my trachea
My own body
Aiming for the jugular

Perched on the edge of the bathtub
Cotton coverings now damp and chilled
Water droplets no longer dripping
But dried into my skin
****** up by my pores

That hungry desert in my core
Drinking in as much as possible
Until my bloated body turns blue
I’m rotting from the inside out
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