My truth. My life.

Scream of tears


I am laying here perfectly still.

Imagining how the people I love

would benefit from my actions.

The water is so hot it is searing

my outer layer of skin.

I don’t care enough to move.

Grasping the porcelain sides,

I let out a scream of tears.

It seems as though no matter how hard I scrub,

I can’t clean you off of me.

Closing my eye, I am wishing to dream.

Dream until I can’t remember.

Now is the time for me to drift.

I must drift out of your heaven and into my hell.




This was done for Picture it & Write

I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please :) ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

Every fortnight we hope to host a photograph suggested by contributors. So, keep those photograph recommendations coming. Submit your favourite images (with credit) for next week’s Picture it & write!

Single Post Navigation

21 thoughts on “Scream of tears

  1. That is very good! Well done!

  2. Wow! Great piece.
    You and I have very different pictures – I saw it and my first thought was something whimsical about nail polish.

  3. This torments…searing writing there….

  4. Oh, I don’t know what to say…!
    Life can do that sometimes…!
    Well written.. 🙂

  5. This very powerful and well written

  6. Grasping the porcelain sides….. i can feel her anguish.

  7. Another that is hard to read. I must have really had my guard up when I looked at the picture. My first impression from the pic was of being sucked under, and then my second was that I wanted a bigger tub. Anyway, good job. Very emotional!

    • Thanks Anne! The picture really hit me hard.. It was hard to write. Thank you for reading.

      • From the unedited copy of something else I wrote:

        Jessi led me in to her bathroom, turned the shower on and helped me out of my dress. She never let go of me. My dress had a small blood stain, enough to be ruined. It didn’t matter. I could never have worn it again anyway. I stared at it on the floor in hatred. It was my favorite dress. I had worn it for Jessi. My panties were gone. I couldn’t remember what had happened to them. They must be back in his office.

        Jessi got me things to help me clean and sat with me while I washed myself. I think she was crying harder than I was. She stayed with me until the hot water ran out and finally told me I wasn’t going to get any cleaner. She wrapped me in a towel and took me to her bed and got me some of her clothes. I stared at her. I was still crying on the inside but long out of tears or the strength to let it out anymore.

        I understand. ♥ Thanks for sharing.

      • Anne! This is really good! I do enjoy your work!

  8. There are many very powerfully sad contributions this week. Your poem is another great one to add. It must be terrible to feel filthy from the inside (despite how much one has scrubbed). Thanks for contributing this week!

    – Ermisenda

  9. Pingback: Picture It And Write – allaboutlemon

  10. Pingback: Picture It And Write – allaboutlemon-All Around, In, And Out Of My Own Universe

  11. Pingback: Picture It And Write – allaboutlemon-All Around, In, And Out Of My Own Universe

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: