I stand, staring at the grey wall
in front of me,
letting the hot water
of my shower box prison
burn my skin away.
The bags under my eyes,
the acne on my face,
the freckles dotting my back.
I look down at the body I’ve come to know
and hate.
I see my boobs all lumpy and sagging.
My stomach protruding
with little hairs scattered
like a mini jungle biome on my skin.
My thighs too big for the rest of my legs.
I’m not an angel
with perfect skin
and perfect boobs
and perfect hourglass form.
I place my hands on my hips
made of glass,
one touch and I’ll shatter
like broken bottles on street corners.
I feel hot water on exposed wrists,
my veins running along my arms
and I wonder what it would feel like
if I ripped them out
and twisted them around my neck.
I stand and hope that the hot water
of my shower box prison
will melt everything away,
revealing the organs underneath.
My lungs blackened and shriveled,
my esophagus charred like burnt meat,
my heart shattered across the pristine white floor,
becoming a heap of organs and tissue
that stain the white with so much blood
one could swim in it.
I stand, staring at the grey wall
in front of me,
letting the hot water
of my shower box prison
burn my skin away.
Just burn it all away,
I mean it.
I’m ready…
