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The Bathtub

I am in a bathtub filled with tepid bathbombed navy blue water. 

I’m sick, stuffy nosed, 

dripping nostrils, packed sinuses 

The dryer twirls and drags clothes 

Metal fasteners scratch metal,  Fabric thwacking on metal, 

Tumbling 

While the washer spins so fast it sounds like a jet engine 

About to push off, away from the tarmac, headed to the runway. 

God damned water is cold again

Water heater is shot

Will fix it next week 

My body aches from illness, stress, 

Pains comingle with other pains

Mounting an assault on my emotions

Confusion, sadness, anger, and fear creep in the near distance.

I’m hiding behind the greyscale-flowered, shower curtain 

Blocking out blinding light from above the sink, 

Great for the page but not for my sensitive eyes and mucus-filled head, 

But away from the feelings.

Another try at warming up the tub before I give up 

and get real cold out there…

I turn on the water, twisting faux chrome metal

All the way around 

Till hotter water floods out of the spout.

“Is it working?

Better still … will it last?

Maybe it is the mixer?,” I muse. 

At my side,

A spat of grey carpet, books, magazines are strewn on the floor 

A light green sponge hangs on the edge of the tub.

The water warm now,

The future bright.

My thoughts, 

         Beautiful, 

                 Kind,

                       Clean

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