Dearest Ducha,

How many times have I tried to stand in you?

Yet, I crumbled to the floor

The comfort of the warm water

On my cracking and aching skin

As I look up the water droplets constellate

They gather a hurry to my comfort

They are your tears

But are they out of pity?

Are they out of love?

Out of understanding?

Why do you cry and comfort me?

Maybe it’s because I need you too

I lay on the floor and watch you cry for me

I think you cry so that your tears mask mine

Your tears mend with mine and show me how sorrows swirl down the drain

I would hate to dwell in that sewer of despair

Maybe you cry because you have seen my tears mingle with metal

Which mingles with blood

You are the only one who sees this part of me

You see me at my most invaluable

My naked body sticking to my filth on the floor

My hair floating

While I dip my head underwater to block out the screeching

I must look so peaceful laying there

Do you know that I think of holding my head under your water?

Simply to silence these thoughts?

You may not know my thoughts, but you see my grief

Pouring out of me like your head

I think you cry for me because you understand what it’s like to hold back tears

When others turn you off

Dearest Ducha,

Cry no more.