The bathwater is cold.
I can’t even feel my legs.
They are turning white.
I’m quite worked up by you
tonight and I can’t even sleep,
so here I am.
It’s 4 am.
Shaving in your 50’s tub
with Lady Remington
and pictures line the walls
of people I’ve never met.
Who they are and why they’re here
and why they’re staring at me now.
The bathroom is a creepy place
for pictures of your friends.
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