?

stripped, I step into the small, square shower
the cold surrounding tile forms a metaphor,
quickly forgotten under the assailing beating water

has it always struck me with such ferocity?

my bare skin cringes as it is pressed against the unforgiving ceramic
and the days uneventful recitation begins

the walk, it seemed to hold possibility, perhaps just reprieve
surely, it served no purpose in the end
yet I know it was necessary

my heart, it aches...if not for the pain, how else would I know it beats?
lately it seems so fresh, the old scars...echoed words

proximity means nothing if left unused

a week that holds little promise....who keeps them anyway...
will this feeling ever end?
perhaps my undoing will be this emotional implosion

the water grows chilled, how fitting.....

I grasp my sanity in both hands
unfortunately, they remain palm down and fully open

too many days like this

I will survive

the shower remains on, the cold has become refreshing
almost awakening

besides, the tears are unnoticable here



-J.G.Smith (08/25/05