I was your bar of soap. Soft to the touch, smooth when wet, fresh smell of flowers, meant to be handled with care because it could melt and fall down the drain or break into tiny pieces and never be regained.
You had me on the palm of your hand. You spun me around numerous times so your fingertips could squeeze the purity of my love to lather your mind, body and soul. But before you could press me against your body, your thoughts led you to believing the grass will always be greener on the other side. There had to be bigger and better; colorful and different shaped options.
At that moment, I slipped right through your fingers and broke into pieces. You swore you'd never let it happen again because it took so much energy and money to find a brand that would ease your pain and take care of your sensitive skin. Unfortunately, it happened against because you were so consumed in your thoughts of rage by what had happened that day.
At work, not enough hours so you could feel the financial strain. At home, everyone is out working so no one was there to come to your aid. Your friends were depressed and weren't down to go out but play video games. You never let your girlfriend in your heart and mind anyway.
This time the broken pieces of soap quickly melted in your strong grip and the water from the shower head moved it back and forth the bathtub while your life flashed before your eyes and you were staring into space. You came back into reality realizing the one thing you had control of; the bar of soap, had gone down that dark hole of a drain and you yelled at the top of your lungs, "No, wait!" Focus was all it took to appreciate her remains.