By Rebecca Lockwood
A piece of prose poetry by our co-founder Rebecca!
From the head in the bathtub, standing, cleaning, singing, screaming, crying. Beneath the dark bodies that crawl towards the tank. Staring down at the hole that should have been a drain but was left broken
from a time some time ago.
I fell for someone I shouldn’t have.
In the street, clothed, pulling behind me a suitcase that was just about closed, everything I owned seeping through its zip. My mother’s bathroom. Rubbing in shampoo, eyes clenched, no tears, lots of tears. When the mirror steamed up I would draw a smiling face. In several boy’s bathrooms. After sex. The lack of bottles. The 2-in-1. Cleaning. A trace of them stuck to me like glue
I pat away.
In the swimming baths. Swimsuit on. Chlorine. Nan’s house after the beach. Sand wiped away from between my toes. When you love someone who doesn’t love you back it is like water rising whilst you try to work your way out of an escape room.
I’ve showered in wild water. Reeds tying around my ankles
as if to take me home to rest.
featured image via Pinterest
