Our Bathtub Poems

Our Bathtub Poems

Jessica McGee

Water droplets make friends,

Multiply amongst themselves.

Gather on the tile and puddles at my feet when the story begins.

A water droplet transforms into a stream,

As I scream

In my head because I don’t want to distract you from your daydream.

How kind of me.

~

Can I tell you a secret?

I do not know how to organize my thoughts.

When I pay attention to the little whispers in my head,

I lose sense of time,

Sense of self,

Sense of sense.

Take a trip with my best friend, Dissociation.

Tear myself apart before I blindly piece my being together.

~

On second thought, I do not want to think about it anymore . . .

Forcing the hinges shut.

Water droplets turning my skin red I adore.

The tingling sensation reminds me of a cigarette butt.

Something to ease the disease that is my mind.

Add it to the bill and tip the waiter.

Another destructive hobby outlined.

Makes me question my creator.

~

Am I who I thought I would be?

Looking at the boxes of personality characteristics.

All I see is what I am not.

Remembering that we are all boiled down to statistics.

I matched my goals and followed my passions.

Strangers pass by without compassion,

Spare a glance and I’m barely a portrait.

For I lost what was important.

Do I even notice?

~

Do I even notice . . .

My daydream does not have the decency to ask for my consideration.

Reflective rumination.

To be honest,

It is kind of atrocious.

When I pay attention to the little whispers in my head,

I lose myself and I can’t find myself unless I am out of focus.

~

I thank the plumbers for their hard work,

Their effort frozen in time.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck with the jerk

That I’m.

You might think it is silly . . .

You.

-Jessica McGee is a junior from Ridgewood, NJ, pursuing a major in Psychology and minors in Medical Anthropology as well as Health and Society.-