January 29, 2013
The dream about the bathtub was fast and hard. She would undress and turn on the water. She'd fold herself up in different ways inside the tub until she felt pretty. The water pounding down from the spicket sounded like it was yelling at her to try again, arrange her limbs differently, change the shape of her spine, the angles of her elbows and knees. She would rearrange continuously but the falling water still sounded like yelling. She'd contort herself and push on the walls of the tub. Every muscle movement was deemed incorrect. You're broken and ugly, yelled the falling water from the spicket. No matter how you arrange your bones, you are unpleasant. She woke up with sore, wet wrists.

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