There’s just something about
Bathrooms
That makes you
Shiver,
Delight coursing through;
Memories resurfacing.
There are those
Ancient teardrop stains
On the porcelain seat cover,
From the times you
Locked yourself
In;
Footprints
Caked in layers of
Dust,
Fossils forever
Immortalizing your
Fears;
The sliding glass
Of the shower
Door,
It’s made such a good
Back cushion
Over the years;
The immense mirror
Taking up
Half the room,
Reflecting images you’ve
Never wanted.


Here you are
Safe.
There’s just something about the
Cool marble
That makes you feel so at
Home,
So within your
Element.


Your heart has
Frozen over,
You are always so
Cold.
Press the
Icicles
Against the mirror,
Hear the clank
As the glass
Rejects them.
You look in the mirror,
Not knowing which you is the
Reflection.