Kenn's Book Of Poems

Showertime Blues

Rainfalls of furious water flow calmly down my back,
My mind in search for a place of undeniable hope.
Undeniable hope is of something that I lack,
So my mind has become a dark slippery slope.

My mind is full of fear, I'm afraid,
One might say that I'm in need of a boost of confidence.
They're wrong, since confidence has not been slain,
but the lookout of it has become quite fraudulent.

My head is lain opposite to the wall of which water pours,
My mind dark and fear on the prowl.
I can't protect myself from the oncoming slurs,
For I am not in warm protection of a towel.

My mind surges as forces of darkness bring it down,
I feel my feet slip from under me.
I can't feel or see anything that is around,
And the darkness becomes a drownful of poisoning.

I focus on two things, the metal and the music that plays,
but they can't pull me from the metal.
My hand may tangle and sway,
but my grasp holds tight onto a bloody petal.

It's my own petal, but it's a razor itself,
I feel no pain from the harm it makes.
I've learned to hide it upon a distant shelf,
So nobody can find out about my personal mistakes.

Swiping, one by one,
the dark red seeps through.
It's a method of relieving fun,
but all it does is causes more darkness to ensue.

Red fills my arms and falls like rain,
My conciousness is in sway.
I grab onto a nearby metal bar,
but everything fades away.

I bring myself back to this day,
As I sit down in a class.
It's maddening to dwell upon my sickening past,
so I moved on to make plans to stay.

I won't deal with more relapses,
I've had enough of ol' Showertime Blues.