Goodnight Kiss

Some where far away from here she could hear a song being strummed on a Sigma guitar and a low voice sing along almost in a whisper. He wrote his own songs and played them for her night after night, singing about a lost rose, a lost melody and a lost love.
She could hear him and she could hear a loud trembling drip that reverberated around her head. Her hair, like fish gills, swayed in the water and contracted and stuck together when they'd catch a breath of steamy air against the cold white ceramic. She could lay here for hours staring at the slanted ceiling slightly dusted with cob webs with every part of her submersed except for the most protruding parts of her skull and her bare pink knees.
Her crimson painted toe nails would sometimes play with the faucet and every now and then she'd turn on the shower just to let him know she was still alive. The water would beat down on to her neck and chest slightly a skew, for that is how he had mistakenly screwed the shower head on.
He felt a lot farther away than he actually was. He was sitting downstairs strumming away at a guitar he'd been playing for years. He knew she was only upstairs and if he got the urge he could run up there right that minute, swoop her up out of the bath in his arms and make sweet love to her that night and everything would be better. He knew she wished with all her soul he'd touch her, hug her, something. But, he could never bring himself to make the first move.
She lied there thinking of all the ways she could kill herself so that he'd find her and wish he had of done more. Her favorite way was always slitting her wrists in a warm bath.
She stepped out, sopping wet on the baby blue bath mat, wrapped her hair in a yellow towel that had been sprawled across a semi-empty hamper. She slipped into her cotton underwear with little pink roses and stretched a large T-shirt over her head, slightly knocking the towel off kilter. A thought of laying down, covering her head, and crying until she went to sleep crossed her mind. But, like a flash somewhere from the deep recesses of her barred heart a different thought crossed.
She slithered downstairs for a moment watching him play the tail end of one of "her" songs and kept out of sight. Creeping around the back of the stained cream colored upholstered chair she gave him a slight kiss on the cheek and whispered goodnight in his ear.