Beyond Piss and Poo

A sanctuary formed,
to hone every episode of darkness I’ve ever held as mine;
A haven of safety,
somewhere to run to rather than from;
For my bathroom has seen it all,
captured my survival mode,
birthed the loneliness in me,
paved a place for my corpse to decay in box of nothing;
The floor has held me on the nights
where tears and blood have outpoured so fast
I fall to the floor unsure of which will give up first;
The toilet has watched my hand find a home down my throat,
with the turn of a creaky faucet, the rush of water allowed
my fingers to restlessly fight to pack my belongings and move out;
The walls have heard the hurt in the loudness of my cries,
yet as shallow as they are, they throw them back in mockery;
When I’ve dropped to my knees, pleading for a day that I have not yet seen,
the ceiling has felt my breath in the inaudible screams I’ve shared;
And when the grave has seemed a more comfortable place then my bed ever did,
the coldness of the tub has creaked under my weight;
Yet in every chance,
I leave the bathroom;
For the morning has arrived and a greedy me is in search of more;
For that room has never once tried to stop me from the things I do to harm myself,
never has it cared enough to answer all the questions I’ve asked;
Always watching my misery yet no offering to sew me back whole;
For that room has melted my pain into wax,
molding the thick skin, I now hold as my own,
instilling the wickedness in me, instead of freeing it;
It is evil and cold,
In which you are not;
I leave the bathroom in search of light;
A reason to stay any longer than I desire;
A bed of comfort, one that will hold my numbing limbs
even if they are heavy to carry;
A warm body to lay beside mine in ripe hours of the morning;
A voice of sound to tell me the goodness of life;
A free guide to take me away from my prison;
And every time I look no further than you,
for you are everything my bathroom is not;
Though you too won’t heal me alone,
but with you I trust I’ll be held tightly as I learn to heal myself