As I lay in the empty bath, I wondered where it went. What happened our love? Has it been spent?
Take me back to the start, when the nights were long and the days were filled with hope.
The pain it rifles and then it stifles, holding no punches on its journey.
As I lay here in the empty bath, this hollow encasing seems like the perfect metaphor for where I am with losing you.
It’s cold and it’s empty but yet it’s comfortable and homely.
Maybe if I fill this bath it will begin to wash away the sorrows.
But somehow the uncomfortable bottom welcomes me like the ghost haunting me.
I’ll lay here a little longer, and hope that it somehow takes me with it, somewhere that the pain doesn’t feel as strong.
Written by:
Meghan O’Neill
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