I Like to Write Stuff

I stare at myself in the mirror and I often wait for me to disappear but I never do.
Like if I concentrated hard enough on the concept of me, I’d vanish down the bathroom sink as if I were tap water.

I’m translucent, I’m soaking into the towels.
A dripping inconvenience,
the rain that Noah felt.
"Honey,
call the plumber because the pipes are leaking again."
As if I were tap water -
filling up your wader boots,
what a rookie mistake.

Right down the goddamn drain.