WISDOM TEETH

bath science

'shit, right?' you say with a hint of honey but i can taste the bile rising up in your throat.
after you left, the door didn't slam, instead it just slowly closed itself.
the plant we kept, died.
our dog fled.
the tap started leaking.
the sofa broke.
the fridge fell
and the three pizzas went rotten.
things are going bad, i am scared, for survival is only for the fittest. i am drowning.
shit, right?

shit, i say. right.
i was taught how to swim when i was a kid, i say. i remember the two ends of the pool as chlorine in my nose chlorine in my eyes piddle on my skin and the instructor hollering over me from outside the pool. i still hear him sometimes. shit, i still see him sometimes. screaming and nagging, peering over me from the shallow end of the pool. i remember him telling my mother that i was hopeless, that i could never learn swimming. and now whenever i take a dip in my condo's swimming pool, i still get the feeling of knowing how a goldfish feels. the world is mostly water
and ninety percent of the time if you just stay where you are you're gonna float. i was taught if you see someone drowning never jump in because they may pull you under with them. instead i was taught to reel them out. reel them out, i say. you gotta save yourself first. shit, right?

-- my ten year old cousin is dying of terminal cancer
you left
i haven't told my therapist that i am close to suicide
my life isn't some chuck palahniuk novel
sink in the bath where you sunk
row row
row your boat
merrily down the stream