I fear the open water despite admiring its infinite nature and its limitless beauty.
I dream of the sea as I stand alone, within the confines of my shower. This is not poetic in any sense, but survival.
Water brings with it a catharsis I seek feverishly, behind closed doors, in light and in darkness. My failures and sins surround me as the water streams from above and falls over my naked flesh.
Hands on the wall, I turn to face the stream of water; content to have survived the day.
Water greets my shoulders; washing away the knives which pierced the sheet of distance I wear every day. My back turned to accept the healing I must undergo.
I turn to my sides and allowing my arms to reach across and scrub away fanatically at my sins. Each day, requires more effort as remnants seep into the skin, leaving behind shadows.
Falling to my knees; enveloped by the rain from the wall and the hidden pipes; resigned to my fate.
I shall be back here again; tomorrow and the day after. Perhaps, I shall continue to fear the open water, but I shall dream of the seas as I allow myself the catharsis I need, provided by the artificial rain.
And now, it’s time for my shower.