scorching but frigid

I sat
curled in a ball
under the scorching stream.
Blistering water 
drawing a flushed mosaic on my back.

Frosty air tracing its
bony frigid fingers up my spine
and down my arms.
Prickly hairs stick up perpendicular 
to my skin.
My legs feel like cacti.

Her hands on my head.
Long, flimsy nails 
abrading my sticky scalp
lathering bubbles of freesia and plum.
The suds flow through the forest of my
fine uncombed hair.
Capturing and dragging the layers
of gel and hairspray
until my hair is stripped clean.

She suffocates the cuticles of my hair
with silky smooth silicone.
Twisting and twirling until 
every strand is coated.

The door to the shower closes
cutting off the icy air.
Leaving me alone
with the thick steam.
I let the heavy air fill up my lungs
until I can’t take in any more,
and breathe it out into the cold, dry air.

I focus on the way the hot drops
trickle down every groove of my body
and the way my hair clings
to my reddened cheeks.
It is the only way to silence my chaotic brain.