Muted TV

Muffled talking from
cable TV
whispering through the door,
trying to be heard
but it gets less attention
than the pot of congealed pasta
on the stove
made last night.
Instead, focus shifts
to the rushing water
from a rusting faucet
into a run-down bathtub.
Steam rising,
humidity building.
The heat is welcomed
and I submerge my body
leaving only the frame
of my face above the water.
The TV goes mute
and the pasta grows mold.
The water is cold.