the best thing about the internet...

february first
the shower was warm
but the condensation on the window
like beads, like bubble wrap,
freezes around the edges
a poorly fitted window
poorly fitted girl
in this body
this skin, pale
like snow, like death,
smooth are my lines
scars didn't look so bad
in the muted light of the shower
in the twilight of the bathroom
with the steamy water streaming over me
it didn't seem so bad then.
now my damp hair freezes in the cold
raised my hand
to my face
to my ear
pushing my hair behind it
a shard of my hair fell
to the ground
broken off in the cold
broken smile on this girl
why does a life that is so stagnant
feel like swirling waters?
I can see the white caps.
I can see the deep depths.
I can see the grey sky.