bubble up to

the surface.
your perforated skin swallows
my wayward tears
I sit in vivacious waters;
your eyes my captain.
your

beauty is kinetic – yet stillness becomes you.
I’ll read one more poem before you uncover the core
of my shriveled

skin
each time we step in, our waters are forgiving –
scorching only patches of us while I rub out the redness with ScarGuard
in our waters:

you grow three bubble beards
and I
submerge myself under running taps
and we coat our lips with soap to press against each other

your every angle catches light

I’ll swaddle you in terrycloth and carry you
to save you from the raging jets –
our former trysts swirling down the drain
kiss me so the heated water will go from you to me
I’ll disappear beneath the surface to guide you up

find my tender hands in this hollowed mould

white sheets in a strange room
dim lights, bright eyes.
i love it when you **** me, i love it when you're inside of me.

If I have a hard day at work,
Or a fight with a friend,
I wait to get back home,
Just to be alone.

I put on some scented candles,
And some soothing french music,
Then get into my bathtub,
My comfort zone.

For it's the only space,
I can be my complete self,
No one to make small talks,
No one to play any games.

Its when I am able to make a decision,
Its when I can think wisely,
I love how it calms my heart,
I love how it releases the pain.

I don't need no therapy,
I don't need a friend to talk,
Just need some time by myself,
And I will be whole again.

You'd rather I be lonely,
In a bathtub,
With a book,

let’s sit in the bathtub,
arms intertwined.
let’s sit in the bathtub
and let the water climb.
lets sit in the bathtub
closing our eyes.
lets sit in the bathtub,
whispering goodbye.

There's a girl in my bathtub
I can see her dancing on the surface of the water
Her eyes glinting in the florescent bathroom lights
She and I have a lot in common
The same cropped hair and scars,
Crisscrossing our bodies like little train tracks
She shivers as the water pours into the tub
Hot rain falling from the faucet
I watch her beneath the surface
And I wonder if she is drowning

Bathtubs spend alot of time empty.
When used they are never filled completely.

Maybe I'm like a bathtub.
Cold and clean.

Well...

I'd hope to be clean. But I find myself ***** more often then not.

But I could shine. I could be filled to the brink of overflow.

You could lay on me for awhile.. Close your eyes and just relax.

I'll wrap myself around you and welcome you into me.

****...I'm like a bathtub.

Moths float out from behind
an opened, warped door.
I push my face into your clothes,
hung heavy like pearls
in an antique shop.
Stale and familiar,
the scent follows me
like a lost little bee.
It buzzes even after I leave.

Hopscotch down the hallway
to find dead crickets
in the bathtub.
Scuffed wallpaper camouflages
a cobweb. Metallic vines
curve around bursts of petals.
I’m certain you chose this pattern,
but I don't know.

Memories are few.
I fill in the holes with honey
and arrowheads.
Indian feathers and
an old brooch.
Piles of pie.
Did you love to bake pie?

Games of bridge
on that old, scratched table top
with a musty deck of Bicycle cards.
Each deck a photo album
of your face.

Your raisined face.
I remember holding it in my hands.
“This aint a walk for old womans.”
And out the door I go.
Empty handed and independent.

my anemic blood the color of saffron
is running out of my back
and into the bathwater

my sister is screaming
quarter past a freckle
and she jumps out

the metal faucet where the water
pours out in gallons
is sharper than I thought it was.