Mar 25
The bathwater went cold
And I didn’t move.
I used to promise myself never
Like that word could save me
Like it would matter on a night like this.
I told myself it was nothing.
Just a little.
Just enough to make the noise stop.
But it didn’t.
It just stings.
Sharp and accusing.
Like my own skin knows
I wasn’t supposed to do this.
Now I’m sitting here,
Wrapped in silence and something worse,
Trying to figure out
When I became the kind of person
I was so afraid of.
And I think the worst part is—
I still don’t feel better.
