Shower, Soaked.

Sometimes I, sit, in the shower

The water crashing down on me and my terribly flawed skin

It soothes me
I imagine it being your love, and you, the shower head
I'm in love with the warmth of it
But I'm worried at one point in time it'll turn cold 
No what frightens me even more is that I'll have to turn it off. 
Wet, I'm soaked. 
How long until I shake all of this off of me???
Yeah I try to dry it all off, but how long will my freedom last?
I'll be here tomorrow, maybe even later on tonight. 
Then I'll be soaked, all over again but this time it's just a fantasy,
Because you're not here. Maybe it's always been a fantasy. 
Blasting my music so I won't have to hear my thoughts, but they're way too loud. 
Louder than the weed I know you'll be smoking on when I told you to try not to. 
I also told you to try not to forget me
I told you not to forget me. 
I told you. 
But I'm just here, naked, vulnerable, my sight fixed on the shower head 
In my head I'm wishing that you were here, with me, in the same circumstance that I'm in
Weak vulnerable
In love
Soaked. 

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741