Midnight meets me in the shower
Rachel Lofgren

midnight meets me in the shower.
tenuous threads of happiness slip by my
grasping, desperate fingertips.
I hope to find them in the hot water that pounds
against my skin. the water starts to blur
my vision. it clouds my mind, and assaults
my better sense. the ceramic walls are cold
on my skin. searching for answers, I drown
my thoughts, my logic. this broken part of me swears
to never show herself, to never let them know.