When I was cleaning the toilet
I killed my angel
because I brushed her off my sleeve.
to be fair, the devil suffered a fall
as well, but he only dropped a few feet.
The porcelain surface gleamed
in the light cast by the single bulb
flickering valiantly to stay alight
like the little engine who could.
The bathroom was my place of refuge,
it seemed like the only place I received
some privacy whenever my parents were home.
I reverently removed my Superman wrist watch
and placed it on the sink alongside my vintage
Spiderman lunchbox complete with a thermos
and collapsible spoon.
Inside the thermos I had hidden a pack of razors
I swiped from Jim’s Hardware store; he was nearly
blind, but liked me because I always cleaned his yard.
I set the razors on the edge of the bathtub for a moment
and only looked at them.
When someone knocked on the door
I refused to answer.