fifteen minutes of shame

think like a poet
get the words to flow
like water in a hot shower
release the confusion
like the steam of the shower stream
as it hits her skin she silently screams
to burn this plauge within
rewritten emotion like a afterthought of shock
the poet knows she weeps futilly
she has no control of this disiese
but her forehead on her knees
she can't will away this sickness
even after the cure
the potency of the shock lingers
tainting her...
tainting what?
her womanhood? her femaleness?
what is it she tries to wash away
breaking her fingernails on burning skin
fifteen minutes of shame
assessing her sin
her sickly tarnished name
she dreads exchanging the shower for a mirror
to see her face
dreading what she'll find there
suddenly she longs for a paper and a pen
to let it all out, what's seething there within
to let the words just flow...
to think
like a poet