I want to scream,
Scream until my mouth is dry,
And my throat is patchy,
And my voice is raw.
I want to kick the glass wall,
Kick it until it shatters and a rain of glass falls upon me,
Clattering noiselessly onto the floor,
Slicing through my skin,
Tinting the glass red.
I want to punch the wall,
Punch it until my kuckles split open,
And the water is pink
And my hand is sore
All these things I think of in the shower,
As the sweet water mixes with my salty tears
And the roar of the water drowns the roar of my sobs
