Dirty Bath Water (spoken word)

Laying in the bathtub trying to forget what I can’t change. The sins of yesterday still taint what’s supposed to be cleansing me.
Soaking, I wonder if tomorrow will be better,
if tomorrow will be different.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be cleaner.

The bubbles are made of your choices, and your desires are the soap that slides along my scarred and tired body.
Tonight I lay in the swirling bath of the life you’ve poured for us.

I try to wash away your sins, scrubbing harder so that somehow I may leave room for the potential I know you have.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be cleaner.

I dream of days where the bubbles may pop and fill the air with wonder and the soap may be sensual instead of some kind of cleansing ritual.
Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrub a little harder, scrub a little longer:

maybe if you can’t change, I’ll become someone new.

Tonight I wash you off of me, watching as our lives swirl down the drain. The stain of your lies rings the rim of my tub like…
maybe it’s stuck here instead of to me this time.

If I make this water deeper, will I still feel so blue? Maybe tomorrow I’ll be cleaner; maybe I’ll be someone new.

The Things That Keep Us Here by Scott Buckley | www.scottbuckley.com.au
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