poems to books i'll never write and lyrics to songs i'll never sing

drips and falls

i get out of the shower and my wet hair drips onto my collar.
it's cold and i get goosebumps,
but i don't know why i cant seem to move and dry it.

maybe i can, and i choose not to because i think i deserve it,
or maybe i really cant and i'm too stunned to think properly anymore.

i don't think i know myself anymore.

i just need to wash my face.