The shower water was cold. Sheets of ice
landed on her body. Freezing her skin
and locking her bones.
She turns the nozzle.
The water is hot. Scorching liquid
dripped onto her back. Burning
her flesh and making her wince.
There is no in between.
On it dragged. Cold and hot
Switching from sorrowful mistakes
to cruel punishment. She no longer
needed to turn the nozzle to
feel the everlasting pain.
There was no comfort.
She needed to wait. Wait for fake
products to tumble out
of her pathetically wet hair.
Wait for the indecisive water to wash the
soap off her body, which never
seems to help her skin.
It's pointless.
She shouldn't need to wait,
they say the waiting will help.
It will help her eternally dirty hair,
and clean her flawed skin.
It never helps.
She is not happy.
