Tag Archives: bathroom

black mold

the clock strikes five, and then there was one.

bathroom floor. feels cold. unnaturally perfect. comforting. alone.

fingers pointing to every tile—faded pink against mouldy lavender

grimly counting the grimy walls peddling for some peace of mind

mindless indulgence, please don’t run out, pleaseplease…but it does

148 tiles. not mine. five sleeping bodies outside, blissfully unaware

five dreams i struggle not to rudely wake up with my silent screams

one. one face. hounding the very verge of my panicked wiles

melting me into an incomprehensible mess. maddening, blaming

the perpetrator of the crime. blue. perfect blue. haunting blue

angel blue with cumulous hair, have you ever seen golden clouds

before? sweet and dimpled, stifle back a sour laugh, i’m falling before

i realise that i can’t fly, oh shit oh god, i can’t fucking fly—!

pulled back. 148 tiles. small cube. no sky. hell below. my shivering hands

prayer. tired kind of mantra, no don’t want this anymore, please i

just want to be okay, please i just want it all to stop stop stop stoppp

numb but hurt, reduced to fine shreds on 28 of the 148 dirty tiles

five unconscious bodies, enviously euphorically ignorant, another storm

but not from outside, it’s too chilly for that, my eyes blur as they fog over but

better than sorry little pissbaby tears trickling, i have to face this now anyway

there’s no proper decorum for dismantled fools like me. only life. only life.

light flickers shut. 148 tiles hide beneath the shadows. five bodies toss fitfully. one.

the clock strikes six, and then there were none.

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breaking down

blood and rain

in blocked bathroom stalls

tears and water

a nervous angel’s last calls

blades and beds

numbed-down in narcotics

raw and regrets

jaded of existing semantics

lost and lusting

for tempted taste of demise

scarred and sorry

all these promises were lies.

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love notes in a dirty bathroom stall

For people like you
There is no such thing as an early grave
You wanted to gut my dreams until I was empty
And show everyone my remains…

~*~

i’m pissed off.

i ended up locking

myself inside

to avoid your fit

under cyanide

oh, you and your

showoff machines

always ruining

me and my sleep

if i knew any better

but no, i don’t

i’d say you’re such

a control freak

face the crowds

on the clogged sink

the mirror foggy

like how you think

let’s take this

under the water

drown me in words

i feel much better

you’ve got the nerve

to bitch about all

this shit, fine, let’s

all go from there

but if appearances

were to decide

you’re a tramp by

what you wear

clean up your act

please, clean up

your filthy mouth

accuse me of

running when

you’re lucked out

’cause you’re such a

hothead, you’ll

impose instant war

on anyone who

dares touch your line

and i’m the general

i’m camped out

you got one shot

make it worthwhile

slam me on the

tiles, as worthless

and just as vile

so shoot me with

your guns, shoot me

for fucking real

i may be the one

with bulletholes but

at least i don’t

have to get up to deal

with the bloodless

games of one fuckless

foot-slipping rabbit

’cause i may not be worth it

and you can heave on my

porcelain pink toilet

but i just don’t have the time

for any of your bullshit.

~*~

And after everything you put me through
I should have fucking pissed on you!
Thank you.

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metal & skin (xv.)

hands trembling as i’m

standing silently in the

locked bathroom stall

fists clenched and slam

bruised, with tiles loose

my eyes never waver as

i have a staring contest

with the grinning razor

but i have a bad feeling

that i’m about to lose.

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