I never wrote much poetry, but I did take a class last semester... This was one of them.

Sometimes the water turning cold is the only thing that reminds me to get out.

Sometimes I sit in the shower.
It feels like rain but warmer
than any summer storm.

I turn the water on
as hot as I can stand and
though it almost burns,
I love the way it feels as my skin
pinks and puckers.

Sometimes I plug the drain and
lay in the tub. I let the water
rise around my ankles, over my legs,
until it covers my stomach.
When it gets to my cheeks,
I rest my head back and listen.
While all other sounds disappear,
I can hear the clouded nothingness of
underwater and the rhythmic sound
of my heart beating, reminding me of time.

The tub fills and I close
my eyes and pull my face under the water.
It cradles me and
sometimes it makes me feel so secure
that I never want to leave.

Sometimes I hold my breath just
to see how long I can stand it and
I find myself gasping for air
in the end.