We all have that place

That private world

Where we can disappear

Mine’s the floor of the shower

Lights off

Arms wrapped around my tucked legs

Head onto my knees

The water drips off my hair over my closed eyes

I come to this place

At my worst

To breathe

To feel the patter of the rain on my upper back

The feeling almost replaces a hand

But I learn to be comfortable in my own skin

The cards we are dealt

Weren’t asked for

They are simply flipped to you

And you have to wait with your hands open

That thing called life

Either sprouts a smile on your face

Or makes your heart stop

Sometimes feeling like it’s getting ripped from your chest

I’ve always been able to wear my pain

But this pain is almost unbearable

Another scar across my chest

Left with a void

I’ve tried to fill it

Only to have substance leak out of the holes

The water patters

That feeling of a hand washes down my back


And yet as empty as things sounds

My fingers move to the grout between the tiles

And grip onto the corners

Pulling myself together

And lifting my head to the ceiling

Ready to take this situation

And get my own

So I run my fingers over that scar on my chest

As deep as the grooves in the floor

And pick myself up

To move forward


Evan Sanders
The Better Man Project