His Comfort

It's Monday night.

I'm sitting in the shower, with the curtain between the water and my phone

but the water still hits my body.

They say lonely people take longer showers because the hot water eases

the pain from lack of intimacy.

They say it replaces the withheld embraces from those

we wish would reach out to us.

I didn't think I was lonely.

My days are full.

There are hardly any moments not spent in the company of friends.

Yet here I am,

Trying desperately to make this hot water fill the hole of that missing something.

Something I'm noticing while sitting here is that I'm still freezing.

The air that felt comfortable and warm not ten minutes ago

now feels like ice on my skin.

The air is reality.

It's pushing its way past the curtain sending shivers down my spine

and raising every hair on my body saying,

"That comfort is fleeting and false."

The air is lying to me.

The water will keep me safe, warm, and full.

The air is cold.

But the air is right.

The hot water can't replace my missing something.

The air does love me.

If I let it not only touch my skin but breathe it in,

it will give me peace and life.

The air is sweet.

I'll breathe the cold, sweet air and feel the warm, rhythmic water

and be reminded of his goodness.

My days are full.

There are hardly any moments not spent in the company of friends.

His comfort is lasting and true.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

techpoet13

thanks for the new prospective

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741