He Loves Me Not - Poetry

h o t w a t e r .

Hugging my knees on the shower floor,

I watch as the water trickles down my skin,

Leaving behind lines of scorching red.

I breathe in, I breathe out.

I try my hardest to adjust to the temperature.

To adjust to the pain.

I think to myself,

Why don't you just make the water cooler?

Why are you letting yourself get burned?

I guess it's just in my nature.