The Ceiling, From My Bathroom Floor.

I would say this poem is a tribute- a really short tribute for something that means much to me. If you read it slowly, and take in each word, it does have a lot of depth to it.

My bathroom has seen me in my worst, and wildest, forms- when I could not go out to face the world, when I could not express my sadness in just tears, and when I almost gave up. I don’t know if you’ve found your solace yet. Probably, my solace isn’t a very good example, but I know that I found a lot of myself in the white of my bathroom ceiling. Bathrooms are the only place you can go where you don’t have to talk to anyone; you have no obligations. I have always craved isolation, it gives me a sense of who I am. In this overpopulated world, however, isolation is rare- an endangered species.

For me, it’s a sort of survival tactic. Sometimes I just need a break from life, in order to go on living, so I go and lie down on my bathroom floor for as long as I can- doing nothing but staring at the ceiling. My subconscious is probably doing a lot of thinking, but all I can consciously feel is the cold floor and the much needed silence.

It is my solace, and I’m not ashamed of it.

I was tired of listening to people, and negativity

Negativity that no one else could see.

I craved home, had none of my own,

I craved a place where I could be alone

Then I looked up, and found my core

The ceiling, from my bathroom floor.


When I was drained, and tears poured into a pool

On the cold tiles of the corner where I stood

I needed a break from the incessant voices- the world, and me

I found my solace in the white above, a constancy.

I watched it, untouched and pure,

The ceiling, from my bathroom floor.


When the pouring turned dark red,

And the familiar buzz returned to my head

My legs couldn’t not tremble, and I fell

Onto the very home, my hell

And I found myself searching for

The ceiling, from my bathroom floor.


When I found that a lot many souls had

The kind of sadness that drove them mad,

I knew this world needed much more than God

And I knew more than ever, I was needed not,

And I rushed to it, almost broke the door-

The ceiling, from my bathroom floor.


When all else failed, I cleared the mess

I was drifting in and out of nothingness

My mind switching off, body already gone

Almost at rest, I was finally alone

I saw the last image my mind would form

The ceiling, from my bathroom floor.


11 thoughts on “The Ceiling, From My Bathroom Floor.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s