Sometimes I wish I do stick my
Head in clouds and allow its
Moistness wash stubborn memories of you
To replace with ones, not hurtful and deep.
Sometimes I bellow underneath droplets
Of water, from my shower shooter.
As it reawakens sizzling moments
Of we both.
Leaving me to find faults in
The choice you made to leave.
Finding reasons to breathe.
Finding truth in my nakedness.
Finding remains of you in my baldness.
Why, or however do I think
You even wish to return?