Sitting alone, with a cloudy mind, he has self-concern written all over his pale skin, his eyebrows slanting in the mirror before he decides to take a bath, and his feeling burning from the hot water that he chose, because, in a way, he likes the burn because he feels he deserves the burn. The burn goes through his toes, into his blood stream, and straight to his mind, and in that very moment, the other concerns of life, drift away, for even a second. He closes his eyes and imagines what’s here to come or what he could have done different, and in a way he misses the burn and feels guilty for it. The water goes dim as minutes go by to where he’s shaking, completely bare for no one to see other than the reflection of the same pale skin that has so much concern and so much definition written all over. Standing over the purple tiled sink, he closes his eyes and lets his mind go to complete oblivion where suddenly things are okay and things are decent, and something new and refreshing comes into the picture, and even it’s only for a slight second, that one moment of escapism will put him to sleep to give his dreams permission to haunt him until the next day’s shower.
