Shower Thoughts | Maahi Bandi (12)

The tears come in the shower.

Tell me, how many must fall from my eyes

in order to neutralize the cascade of hot

water in this

(as my chemistry teacher would say)

Acid-Base Titration of Life?

My grades say I should know the answer.

I should be able to calculate

gravitational acceleration times the gallons per minute

converted to tears per second

I should deduce that the longer I cry the more hot water falls

and the more hot water the further I waste away

I should know

my tears will never be enough to wash away the bittersweet memories that shatter me

the same way longing shattered the glass picture frame in my bedroom.

I should turn it off.

But I miss you–no I’ll be fine

But I need you–no I don’t

Please come back–no stay away

I wish it was your fault I can’t turn off

the warm, enticing,

treacherous, Acidic shower water

Your fault that I fall into its corrosive trap

even though my Basic tears can’t keep up

Your fault I don’t

ever

regret

falling

for something so enchanting, so fantastic,

so illusory as you.

Yes, the fault is mine

the tears are mine

the shower is mine

but no matter how much I cry, you will never be.

So I will turn off the shower.