These Insufficient Words

Renewal (Part One)

A shrill, relentless noise tears me from spider-silk dreams

So thinly woven, so soon forgotten, that cling to the ceiling of my mind.

I slip out of my soft, warm covers,

Lovers who call for me tantalizingly. 

But I must stay awake 

So that the morning will live.

I slide into the shower, basking in the warmth

That falls, rain-like, soothingly, on my sleep-skin

Lulling me into a sort of half-dream.

The pit-pat downpour seeps into my scalp,

Drips down my spine, soaks my legs,

Vanishes into the rabbit-hole drain, 

And brings with it my skin of yesterday,

Which has been peeled and scrubbed off

By the plentiful drops of renewal of the day.

I stand, lifting my face to feel the hot streams

Streak down my cheeks, flushing them like the sunrise.

It ends too soon.

I turn off the tap, shiver into my towel, and then

Glance into the steamy mirror and see

A girl, blushing with heat, diagnosed with goosebumps, 

Stripped of expectations, responsibilities, and normality

Standing cloaked in a new day, with a face shining like the sun. 

She's vulnerable to a fault, but innocent as a child,

And required to embrace reality faster than she wishes.

Renewed and ready, I walk out into the world once again.