My work / Poetry

thoughts while in the shower

sometimes i wish i could melt
into a puddle of skin
and bits of bone,
gray chunks of memories
clogging the drain.
the sound of the water
gurgling as it struggles
to flow past my brain matter
is obnoxious, much like
my screaming aura
floating far above my
liquefied head in a
humid cloud of steam,
exploring vents and pipes.

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