Okay, first, I'd like to express a very quick rant: When my friend read this, he was all 'But it's not a poem, it's a story! That's not a poem!' And I was like 'A poem tells a story!' And he was all 'Yeah, but this is more like a story!' And he wasn't getting it. He was being an idiot. >C
Whatever.
Here's my poem, please R&R, though honestly, I'm probably not going to change too much.
Midnight Shower
She wanted a shower
To wipe away the day – busy and worthless –
Get rid of it.
Back at the Hotel room, late at night
The silver faucet from the shower
Held her naked reflection
In its temporary grasp –
The lights began to flicker
On, off, on, off, dancing in her eyes
Flashing until she nearly fainted –
Then they stayed dead.
A definite sound of glass hitting
The floor in a small musical shower.
Everything was silent for a moment,
A minute, a lifetime.
The light began burning brightly,
Hotter and hotter until her eyeballs scorched
She squeezed them shut
Get out get out get out
She wrapped a thin towel around her waist
Scrambled out of the room
A note lay on the creaky bed
Written in childish scrawl –
“You’ve been warned,” it read
She gasped, turned around –
Drew in her last breath
Then hit the floor with a
Definite, permanent thud.
In the bathroom,
The shower kept running.
