Bathroom of Reflection
Dennis, MA
2021, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
breathe in.
fog covers the bathroom mirror
dense steam permeates the room
staining the glass
making the windows warm to the touch.
condensed droplets roll down the shower curtains
forming a puddle at the bottom of the tub
exhale
steam escapes your mouth and nose
rising to the ceiling.
the heat feels tangible
its particles graze your skin
warming you like a blanket of vapor
you open the window
a soft breeze trickles in,
clearing the mirror.
your faint silhouette, blurred, emerges from the shadows
your marine eyes stare into their reflection,
the tinge of blue in the iris
an icy glint
it paints a picture
without thinking
you dive headfirst into the canvas.
crashing rough seas fill your ears.
lapping waves violently rock
your body. the salt stings your
throat. you look up and see
Poseidon and his trident
towering over the endless
skies, commanding the raging
waters, hailing thunder on
the shores, spraying seawater
in all directions.
suddenly the canvas flips over.
a new scene materializes.
you lay sputtering on the
parched earth. beside you a pitiful
figure writhes. its silent cries
carry across the barren lands.
its echoes for thirst go unheard.
the sun’s melting heat beats death.
slowly, you crumble apart
into a pile of sand. becoming
one with the cracked earth.
one with the dryness.
in an instant
the waves of heat cease.
your feet hit the bathroom floor.
your white knuckles grip the
sink edge as you stare
into your reflection
once again.
the ruffled curtains gently
sway in the breeze,
cool air enters the room.
the drip-drop of water echoes
in your ears, you reach over to
close the half-open faucet.
your face grows hot.
while you take 15-minute
showers, somebody bathes
in brown murky waters.
while you drink from the
water fountain, somebody
walks to faraway wells
in the middle of
nowhere.
so you lift your gaze
and look beyond the curtains,
past the dark horizon
you stare at a blank dot
somewhere
a thousand miles away.
where a tortured soul looks up to the sky
dying of thirst.
you don’t hear its cries.
you can’t see its wounds.
but now you feel its pulsing.
it beats inside your own chest.
its pain becomes yours.
Reflection
Reflection
I tried to convey a simultaneous feeling of intimacy and anonymity in this poem. The detailed emotion and description coupled with the second person point-of-view helps give the reader a sense of duty. I wanted any reader to feel like the poem could be about them. Some people have never had any access to many things we end up taking for granted. I use this poem to shed light on this issue, so people remember that leaving the water running not only makes our energy bill higher, but also reflects the inequality between two opposite worlds. We carelessly waste our resources—these same resources that many are deprived of. I want to do my part and take a step in the right direction, starting with little things such as not taking 15-minute showers or leaving the water running while brushing teeth.