I am pulling Hair from my Drain. by Duncan Shaw-Rose

i choke as lukewarm water slides between my lips, bolting upwards with a splash. the drain is clogged. hair.

I am pulling Hair from my Drain.

my fingers grasp coarse, slimy strands, black wires against my skin. i turn my eyes away as if my hands are strangers.

I am pulling Hair from my Drain.

turbid waves crash over tiled floors, on carpets, down stairs, out doors. bile burns like fire upon my tongue.

I am pulling Hair from my Drain.

red. my thumb splits upon the edge of a tooth, embedded in a snarl. i twist and writhe to hold my mouth above the water.

I am pulling Hair from my Drain.

there’s a tug at the back of my head