the cold tub
Her hand connected with the cold metal knob as she slowly turned it to the left.
Watching the prickling cold water trickle out of the faucet
and then pour into the white tub,
she watched it slowly fill up with no emotion,
she couldn’t feel anything on the inside and mentally she couldn’t breathe.
She sat beside the tub and laid her head on the side
of the cold cement edge as she put the right hand in.
Her fingers moved around gracefully, getting a feel of the cold as it numbed her hand, slowing down the blood flow into her veins.
When the water got to the perfect level she undressed,
taking her time because of her fragile soul.
As an article of clothing came off, she felt the same amount of pain
with every scar that lay on her arm, back and legs,
even the ones that people couldn’t see.
She was weak and couldn’t help but wince at her lack of movement to prepare herself for the water.
One by one she lifted her left foot and then her right foot entering the tub,
as she calmly pushed the rest of her body in the water it raised,
stopping directly above the edge.
She let out a sigh,
a sigh of relief as if she felt at peace.
her body sunk in becoming one with the water
as it collected at the nape of her neck.
Her eyes rolled back and her head lifted to the ceiling.
Little balls of water formed at the edge of her eyes
and rolled down the side of her cheeks.
She put her head under the water and let go.
Her lungs fought for air the way her mind fights to live freely
but they filled up with water the way it fills up with negativity.
She enjoyed this feeling
because when it got so bad that she couldn’t breathe
and everything started to go black,
she could control it.
She could escape for air and take it,
the way her mind couldn’t escape for peace.
She enjoyed being in control
She did this over and over again,
and each time it got harder and harder to breath but,
She never felt more alive closer to death than she did when she’s living…