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,
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.
One thought on “The Bathtub”
Loved this…my thoughts so often. Hugs