I'm sitting dry by the faucet unable to think

I’m sitting dry by the faucet unable to think,

For once I am feeling, everything.

I could turn on the water to drown my thoughts,

Like I always do, and suffocate my lungs with steam-

Or I could thaw my heart and feel,

Write a dozen thoughts on damp notebook paper.

But could I love someone, how do you learn that?

The library has passed through this bath

A million different pages of information,

And I still ask, where do I learn that?

Reviews

[Christina May Shanaberg]

I enjoyed reading this poem. It is very visual and expresses very vivid emotions. I am familiar with reading and writing in the bathroom; sometimes, with children, that is your only haven.

[D.R. Wilsey Jr.]

Your title immediately attracted me to this piece, so bravo right from the get go. Short and succinct, yet serves the purpose of asking such an incredibly large and often difficult question. I definitely identify with this piece and often find myself asking the same question. How do I learn that? Some day the answer may come strolling into my life.

"Like I always do, and suffocate me lungs"

Just a light mistake there. Did you mean "my lungs"?