leak

lock yourself in your room and

let the faucet of your mouth leak

words

upon a screen

just like your absorbent eyes

squeeze your soap tears from their mascara stained water.

and maybe you tried to repair the faucet:

tighten the screws

tighten the nuts

tighten the bolts.

but each time you got close to fixing it,

someone needed to wash the dishes.

again came undone:

the screws

the nuts

the bolts.

and so, the rough sponge stung your eyes,

dripped water and

streaks of soap were left on the dirty dishes.

open the door.

out you came, just to dry off,

but the water soaked your clothes

and it stuck to your arms

and it stuck to your face

and it stuck to your torso.

and so, you dragged yourself, helplessly, to the kitchen.

there stood the heart of the house.

"drink some water, it will make you feel better."

but the leaky faucet served water from the well,

and screw it,

because it tasted

just like metal.

no one cared to change its filter,

no one that could.

no one paid attention to its status light glowing red,

no one could.

no one listened when it asked for help, for someone to care,

but no one could.

it would not let them.

not after the heart told it

that its dumb, leaky mouth

wasn't worth their time. wasn't worth

the drama it brought. wasn't worth

its own fault.

then and there went

the last screw,

fell to the floor,

rolled under the fridge.

screw it all.

stay good.