Shower Routine
The water crashes down
like microscopic razor blades
shredding the paper like sheet
encasing my body.
Steam echoes off
as a new shield wraps my open wounds.
Muscles fight every crack
of movement:
no grasping the soap
shampoo cap stays closed,
only the ringing
in my ears to keep me company.
Curtain soon ripped open
freeing the armed
brisk air
waiting to pounce
waiting to leach onto my new shell
returning me to reality
once more.
4 thoughts on "Shower Routine"
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I love the sounds this poem makes to share the harshness of re-entry..
Thank you!
“water crashes down/like microscopic razor blades” is an awesome image!
Thank you so much!