The Shower

November 12, 2017
I used to hate the shower.
The way your skin turned pruny,
telling you to get back to your privileged barbies
and your ignorant cartoons.
You didn’t have to think in the shower,
nothing to think about other than toys.
But now the water’s turned frigid.
It’s the piercing feeling of responsibility.
No more nap time and apple juice,
time for the endless hours spent crying.
A quick shower ends up being two hours
of you thinking about why your hair is falling out.
Why your jeans no longer fit over your stomach.
Why your head always hurts and your eyes tired.
Why you feel so lonely in a world so big.
Why the days drag past.
Why you wake up from a nap not caring what time it is in case you have to do something because,
You don’t have the energy to do anything.
Why.
Why do the showers make you feel clean.
Clean from the feeling of wanting to lock yourself in your room because no one would get hurt if you just stayed alone.
Alone.
That’s how it feels in the shower, especially
The feeling you get when you’re laying in your bed
On your phone
watching your friends be happy without you.
Alone.
It’s how you feel when the cold water runs down your back in the tub and you can’t tell your
Tears from the water droplets.
Alone.
It’s the stringy, dead excuse of hair you feel on your head because of the stress and lack of vitamins.
Alone.
It’s how the shower makes you feel.
Oh, how I’ve gotten used to taking showers.





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