I step into the box.
First, it's warm.
Blissfulness and happiness and warmth roll down my skin.
I loathe in the comfort it brings me.
But, then, it turns like ice.
My teeth chatter.
My legs shake.
And I back up against the wall to get away.
The warmth is long gone.
I collapse on the tiled floor.
I cry.
I know, I know. It's just a cold shower.
But, baby, it's not just that.
Dig deeper.
YOU ARE READING
The Thoughts and Poems from the Mind of a 14-Year-Old Girl
PoetryI'm just a teen dealing with life One Step After Another. So, enjoy these crappy limericks, verses, and rhymes. I hope they keep you company. One page at a time.
