a simple white tub, with a green and blue striped curtain outside the clear one
it becomes my hangout spot
at the ungodly hours of three or four in the morning
when no one else is awake to interrupt
on a normal night, I let the warm water embrace me like an old friend
and my whispered secrets rise with the steam
I allow my voice to be heard by the audience of plastic bottles, and often,
my tears to be swept down the drain with the suds
my playlist is heard in the background, setting the mood for these nightly dates,
but I usually don't sing along
I'm too busy unraveling the things I am afraid to say to anyone else
the thoughts that are too scary to fathom in my own head
the thoughts that I know scare people away
the nice part of a shower is that it really can't leave.
it's a concrete structure with walls and a tub and it can't leave when you allow your thoughts
to flow out of you like the water cascading down your back or over your face
it remains on the good nights, where time is spent with conditioner-soaked hair while the razor glides against your skin
for the days of little victories, where a slippery happy dance comes, because you did well on an exam or got kissed by that boy you've been daydreaming about
on the days where you don't have much to say, so you just hum along to the playlist
it remains for thebad, too
probably because it can't leave
the days where the exhaustion means I barely can rinse the suds from my hairand skin
or the moments of defeat that were played off as no big deal to the world, butI allow to crush me in that small rectangle of space
it is witness to the tears and gasps and silent sobs
it tastes the metallic blood that runs off my skin with the water
it soaks my clothes on nights where I just need to feel
so I spend ten minutes in the frigid stream, still wearing shorts and a hoodie
and the tub embraces me when I need to curl into a space as empty as I am
with no water running, a comfortable void