steaming in the hour of a summer eve, and
truth be told, I’m
steaming in the shower of a messy me.
sound the only voice other than my own; I
sounds of silence that voice my heart alone.
It’s not the end of me;
I’m not dead, but
what’s here surrounding me
sits unsaid, so I
turn a light on just to be strong
if I’m feeling down. Yes I
turn a light on just to hang on
in this darken house.