In the showet I sit
I close my eyes and let the water run
Over my face
I turn the water hotter
and hotter still
Burn away these thoughts
Scald away these images
Raw lust
For a blade
I haven't touched
In ten long months
I write now in pencil
I couldn't find a pen
My hair is still wet and tangled
From the shower,
Didn't bother to brush it
Staring at the streetlight
The rest of the world falls into the flame
My retnas burn
I look away
Menthol burns my throat
The cherry from my cigarette
Falls onto my arm
I don't brush it off
My pencil scurries across the paper
And I inhale the poison
To rid me of my lust.
Kayla Peterson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fire-lust-and-poetry/
