In the bottom of the bathroom tub,

I don’t have to be pretty.

In the bottom of the bathroom tub, 

I don’t have to be put together.

Feeling the scalding water pour over me,

My makeup cascading down my face.

My mask finally melting apart.

Whoever said I didn’t take acting seriously is a f*cking joke.

I play the good daughter who isn’t quite good enough.

I play the dumb, pretty sister, just shallow enough to give the others the look of depth.

I play the supporting friend who shares her highs and lows, but never her razors and cliffs.

I play the happy teammate who is so goddamn unhappy all the goddamn time.

And I play the girl of your dreams when I am the star of my own f*cking nightmares.

In the bottom of the bathroom tub,

I’m just me.

Falling apart.

Never enough.

The replacement.

Slowly

And 

Painfully

Dying

Now

On 

The

Outside 

As

Well

Maybe it’s the way you kiss my nose.

Maybe it’s the way you wrap your arms around me.

Maybe it’s the way you make me feel wanted and desired.

But you do that for a lot of people, huh?

So to the bottom of the bathroom tub, I go 

With your words and my lies

“Yeah, friends with benefits.”

Yeah right,

Benefits.

The only benefit is that I’m losing myself faster

Circling the drain

In the bottom of the bathroom tub.