It's been a year
but I feel as empty as I did then
when I cross into the tub
moisture already crowding the room
the music and shower rain combine loudly
but not enough to silence
your voice
telling me no when I ask you
to stop
the water runs down my body
scorching red into my back and chest
purple into my knuckles
burning my scalp
but not hot enough to melt
the feeling of your icy touch
that disregarded my choice
the steam thickens
I almost wish it was enough
to drown me with one inhale
but it's only enough to choke me
as I lean against the wall
grabbing, pulling, pinching my skin
praying the feeling of you leaves me
along with the self-blame
you left in your wake
with the insecurity
with the hidden pain
and the shower works
for a moment
I escape into the numbing heat
until the water is shut off
and your actions linger
just outside the curtain
YOU ARE READING
Brain Dump
PoetryIf I write a poem, it goes here. A collection of thoughts, dreams, fears, and whatever else I see in my brain. TW: mentions of sexual assault, suicide, depression, anxiety, self harm
