Ode to the rainy walk of shame

Wet azure and cobalt sky; a tempestuous sea, that laps against the rusted bricks.

Amidst the thick cascade, eyes catch the dance of fragmented light.

In scattered muddled puddles, with ripples forming waves, unsubtle,

An ambiguous reflection forms;

I am unsure of who I am.

The Clouds sink, settle, slump, and slip.

Clothes soaked, quivering lips. Liquid pools into the sidewalks dips.

Thoughts, a befuddled fog. I am being smothered. Feet walk faster.

Soles sense the callous surface of concrete stairs through tattered soggy flats.

I grasp for the hard metal knob, a frantic heart, desperate for asylum.

The bathroom.

Cold water to burning cheeks.

I cannot look at my own face.

My fingers fumble with the buttons of my soaked clothes.

I lay in the tub, naked peeled and exposed.

Scrubbing skin raw, regret. This deep ache; a strained breast.

I rise.

My eyes meet the mirror.

A momentary glimpse of grace, quickly plunges and transfigures.

A pure reflection; defiled. I am doused, in disgust.

Lips puffy and inflamed.

Skin blemished and bitten; a bruised plum.

Droplets are still rolling off-

my body.

I drain the tub and let the tiny bits of me be sucked in and swirled away.

A twinge of envy,

I cannot bring myself to leave this space.

I am encased in a chamber of cold square slabs.

Pacing in despair, I seek for sounds of solace,

But this stagnant air is composed of iron and steel.

It is impenetrable and silent.

#Poetry #20182019

© 2023 by MCLA Spires.