Faded

I get in the shower, turn up the sterio, and set the water as hot as it will go. Sitting on the floor of the tub, head between my knees, hair swirling all around me. It needs to be hotter. I need the water to scald my skin. To make me feel sort of kind of alive. I need something to help me feel normal.
No one wants to remember what happened between my parents, but whispers of memory come and mingle with the steam, putting condensation on the mirror, barely traceable. It makes the air sag, heavy with water and thoughts and sorrow.
Unthinkingly, I grab the razor and start to shave. I cut myself. It doesn't feel good...