Bathwater
Water spills over the edge, onto the floor, under the door.
It went cold a long time ago.
I let it run.
I could have stopped it, turned it off, pulled the plug.
I let it run.
I knew it was wrong, there’d be a mess to clean up, I didn’t care.
I let it run.
I brought the bottle into the bath, refilled my glass, and let it run.
I texted you I miss you—you didn’t respond.
I held my head under water.
I let you run.




So good!
(back of mind i see JC with mop and bucket, calling out, “did you save any hot water?”)
Don't. ❤️