Empty Reflections

After a day that carved scars in my skin,

I slip into warmth, hoping peace will begin.

The water wraps tight, but the silence is thick,

as memories swirl like the soap on the slick.

Faucet sputters, water halts with a sigh,

I stare at the ceiling, where the dreams used to lie.

Peeling paint shows time, as it yawns and it creaks,

a stillness that echoes, in soft, desperate peaks.