Small Damage

There's a tear in the plastic.

Maybe an inch.

The geometric pattern broken.

Water beading around the damage like it knows something.

I saw it this morning and understood.

Understood that I haven't fixed anything.

Haven't maintained anything.

Haven't taken care of a single thing

that I'm supposed to take care of.

The pattern is small blue squares.

Now one is missing a corner.

Now the whole thing is compromised.

This is what happens when you don't do anything.

When you let small things fall apart.

When you watch the water bead

around the tear and think

"I should fix that"

and then don't.

The shower curtain is plastic.

Cheap. Temporary. Replaceable.

I could buy a new one for six dollars.

But I won't.

I'll just watch the tear get bigger.

Watch the water find new ways through.

Watch the pattern disintegrate.

This is the apartment in miniature.

The outlet that doesn't work.

The ceiling that's giving up.

The walls that are holding secrets.

The me that's letting it all happen.

The tear is still there.

Still small.

Still fixable.

But I'm still not fixing it.