I Don’t Know Who Won

The textured floor of the shower 

imprinted on my feet. Drops of fire rain 

from the shower head as I fight 

fire with fire. The searing pain 

has me sending a prayer to a god 

I don’t know. The layers I’ve pasted on 

began to suffocate me. Sparking a flame 

within. The heat washing down me fights 

to free me, to melt away each layer, as the river 

of flame that flows within me threatens 

to leave me in ashes. This battle 

I’ve created before. The textured floor holds me 

and I stand quietly engulfed. The war 

rages on. I welcome any outcome. 

But the layers, that I 

had so perfectly placed, 

warm and melt. 

Their sticky remnants gurgling 

down the drain. The weight 

ends and a flash of cold 

shocks the breath back 

into my lungs. Today 

ashes didn’t clog the drain. Today 

my feet step from the battle field, red

and raw, but

I’m lost.