I fell in the shower,
and as I laid there,
my cheek pressed up the porcelain flooring,
sliding slowly toward the drain,
I knew this was where I would die,
so I let my eyes drift in and out of consciousness,
my mind waft in and out of recognition of my surroundings,
and I succumbed to the situation,
it was in here that I would bleed to death,
that my cracked skull would double down like the emptying of a cookie jar,
so this is what this feels like,
my life under siege,
my only moments of happiness tangibly running out of my mind,
in this makeshift tributary of sorts
I should have gotten the markers,
I would not have slipped,
but I could not yell,
it was too late,
too red in here for the sound of my cry,
no one would hear it in these corridors anyway,
no one would witness my wet demise,
or see the last of my mind running down these parts,
or hear me recalling the markers
I had been alone in here for more than quite some time
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