Scarred into my memory,
An unbearable beauty,
These images of infuriating perfection,
Stored clumsily in the halls of my brain,
Nothing but a heavy burden on my mind,
Weighing me down,
I lay here exhausted,
A hot stream of water scolding my back,
Like a poor man’s geyser,
And through heavy eyes,
I see my reflection broken and defeated,
Before thick air grasps at my throat,
And a heavy fog descends.