Wednesday, December 9, 2009

yelling fuck you at least 20 times a day.
so that you will leave me alone.
or leave the room.

take a shower. even though the cold is blinding once the water is off.
stand under the near scalding water. taking comfort in being stupid and made of plastic. melting. falling onto the shower floor. touching the orange mold that has been growing between the raised portions of the shower floor. not caring, dripping into the black oblivion of hair and fungus that is the shower drain. sleepy, begin to lose focus. the warmth holds me. its arms cradle me like a broken limb.

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