Bathroom

The water pipes talk,
Conversations rattle
And groan,

Doubts gently drip

And the extractor fan
Is moaning again,
Gently incessant,

I’ve heard its words before,

They all revolve around
The worst things
That could happen
Right now.

It’s lost on me,
Familiarity
Has been breeding

And I think
This might be the moment
I finally spin things my way,

I think this
Might be the moment
I sing against rhythms

And leave here
A dreamer,

Load lightened.

This room was once sodden,
Now it’s suddenly golden,

Watch me rise from my throne
And start charming the chosen.

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