I am perfectly normal.
I know this, because this is what
You tell all your vile friends,
Who come to sip tea and zone
Out of your conversations and, eventually,
Life.

I have come to believe that
It is perfectly normal to be scared of the
Drain.
You wouldn't understand,
But the blood it swallows always
Gloats at me as it swirls into the abyss,
Accompanied by that razor-like water.

I am terrified of my own mortality,
Because you told me that it is unhealthy
And unsafe that I wasn't shaking
In my boots at the thought of Death's arms.

But the biggest fear I have -
Above the scalding and my own red river,
Above my own existence -
Is the fear that, one day,
I may be forced to open these cracked,
Forgotten lips
And utter,

"Mother, I am so terribly afraid of you."