When I get home…

As I get out of the shower,
I will take some comfort,
In the knowledge that,
I still remember the importance of stepping over
The edge of the bathtub carefully.
Hold onto the sides.
Don’t slip.
Don’t fall.
 
As I sit through uncountable hours,
The tips of my fingers twitch as if
They belong to someone else.
Back and forth I rock like a cliche,
With one fallen shoulder,
Examining the strange purple marks on my skin.
You can get almost anything out of a wall
If you hit hard enough you know?
 
When I get home,
Not that I ever leave the black and gold
Curtains in my room…
But when I get home,
I will go directly to bed.
Pull the reckless glamour of my disaster over me,
And I will
Close my eyes and pretend to fall asleep.
 
When I get up I will stare,
Head tilted strangely,
One shoulder dropped…
I will stare through the ceiling
As if I can see the sky.