Shocking my body into thought

I am only taking cold showers. I don't want any steam covering the glass of the doors. I want to see the reflection of my body shivering and shaking in the mirror. Old scars raise out of my flesh, purple and now no longer forgotten; a road map of accidents to counter the road map of life I had drawn on my skin. The soap sticks to my skin longer than it should, my hands wipe then scrub. I let the freezing water attack my face, opening my eyes to it as an anonymous punishment for some sin I'll commit in someones eyes. Some people pray, some repent. I sit in cold showers while the saddest songs play on repeat and are occasionally drowned out by the world spinning past me outside of the window. Tears, sweat, blood, mucous, and other things blend with the water and slip down the drain. I count the beats of my heart while I hold my breath. Each day it is a little longer. Each day there is another beat or two. Each day I have to remind myself to let it go; the breath and the day.