The water bill was
way too high, last time.
It must be the time I spend
not thinking, for once
freeing, letting thoughts slide
down my skin
down the drain
with a hot shower, I can’t
turn the dial on,
because outside the glass doors
is drying in the cold, and
a foggy mirror, and
long wet hair to comb, and
a water bill.
Maybe I can stay in another minute.
Anahit Petrosyan is a writer residing in Los Angeles and a graduate of CSU Northridge with a bachelor’s degree in English. She is the author of the young adult novel, Chasing After, and the short stories, “Mother Wolf” (Northridge Review), “When Hemingway Went to Coffee Bean (Moria Literary Magazine) and “Wanted Man” (Adelaide Magazine).
Latest posts by Anahit Petrosyan (see all)
- Water Bill - 2nd October 2020
The therapeutic and almost drug inducing feeling that comes from the hot shower numbs us to anything in the world besides just that moment.
Why worry about the tomorrow when we can enjoy the today? Ironic because that which gives pleasure in this minute is also providing pain for the future. It is still worth it.
Loved the poem, I can certainly empathize.
Rohan, thank you so much for the feedback! Means a lot!
This poetry completely describes my shower life. An escape from reality.
Absolutely brilliant!