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Showertime Sadness
by Rachel JohnsonThe high-pitched sound
that emanates from the faucet
as I turn the knob
all the way towards hot
enough to wash away
this feeling of abandonment
flowering
within me.
It’s a siren, warning
me of the barrage about to come.
Bombs raining,
everything collapsing,
and me convincing myself
that I’m okay being alone
one more day, waiting
while London Bridge is
falling down.
And, like how my lip feels
better when I bite down,
the distance is easier
when made greater.
So, I walk. West.
Out toward the water,
waiting,
for the icy, arctic mists
to shower over me.
And I think to myself that I am fine,
because I am happy here,
and that’s true.
But, I am growing bitter
about my birthday
and the years ahead of me
and all the things I have yet to do. 07/14/2014 Author's Note: Thinking. I like a few of the lines in here, a lot.
Posted on 07/14/2014
Copyright © 2024 Rachel Johnson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jessica Polanco on 07/15/14 at 02:31 AM Thinking is always beautiful and dangerous, in your case it is eloquent and has made me think too! |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 07/20/14 at 08:48 PM Welcome to Pathetic and I also like some of the lines. Hope you are here to stay for a while. |
| Posted by Thomas K. Hunt on 02/08/15 at 10:57 AM Excellent Read.. |
| Posted by Thomas K. Hunt on 02/08/15 at 10:58 AM Congrats on the POTD, well deserved |
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