Immersion

The neighbors are at it again,

screaming through the drywall gap.

I can’t find a place to be quiet

so I climb into the porcelain trap.

I don't even undress.

I just sit on the cold, hard floor

and turn the faucet until the roar

drowns out the lock on the door.

There’s a ring of rust around the drain,

a brown eye that never shuts.

I’m waiting for the water to rise

and wash out all of my guts.