The bathroom smells like a dog that stayed out

The bathroom smells like a dog that stayed out

in the rain for a week without a towel.

I peeled back the wallpaper to find the doubt

hiding in a corner that’s turning foul.

It’s a black map of every leak I ignored,

a fuzzy patch of drywall, damp and soft.

I thought I was fine, just bored,

while the spores were rising into the loft.

Now the rent feels like a fine for the air,

and the soap doesn't make the room feel clean.

It’s hard to stay when you’re fully aware

of the rot that’s growing behind the scene.