Stagnant Moments

In the shower, the water drips warm like regret,

each droplet feels heavy, a weight on my skin.

Outside my door, laughter rolls like a pet,

but here, I’m just waiting for comfort to win.

The steam rises slowly, then vanishes quick,

thoughts slide off me, like whispers that flee.

Life's temperature softens, it never feels thick,

a blanket of warmth that won’t settle on me.

Halfhearted this water, too lukewarm to feel,

I’m caught in a drift of this restless refrain.

I reach for the faucet, can’t find what is real,

this moment dissolving in sweat and in rain.