A Leaky Tap

It is never what you expect – a leaky tap that needs repair,
causing my insides to spill out,
stabbing my heart,
shaking my hands as frustration boils over.
He is not here, he never will be again.
The shower as pain catalyst.

© ceenoa  26/5/2014

38 responses to “A Leaky Tap”

  1. I really like your poems, Claudette. 😊

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    1. Thanks Maria. I like writing them 🙂

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  2. Intense and heart-wrenching. Love that last line!

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    1. Thanks, it was a pretty intense moment for me, glad it came out in the words.

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  3. Jennifer G. Knoblock Avatar
    Jennifer G. Knoblock

    Great opening line and nice progression from the physical to the emotional.

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    1. Thank you for your compliment. Sometimes writing is just like life.

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  4. I have a leaky tap now and it’s running me ragged. I feel the frustration

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    1. Hope you get it fixed, nothing like a drip to drive you mad.

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  5. It is the smallest things that sometime set us off…

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    1. Yes, you don’t expect them, the come and crush you, and then they fade away and you’re left wondering what the heck just happened.

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  6. It is those little unexpected moments that can bring on the most intense grief. Well done.

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    1. Thank you for taking the time to comment. I think I would like to miss some of those little moments for a while, they do not happen as often as they did, but they still hit me like a ton of bricks.

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  7. I have felt this too….that strange ability of grief to strike us in the mundane moments when we least expect it.

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    1. Yes, it happens to me a lot, just a small something that acts a s a trigger. Hard to predict, impossible to contain.

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  8. It’s amazing how grief comes at you from different and unexpected angles. It’s kind of like a sniper. Anyway, I love how you’ve depicted ity so precisely.

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    1. A sniper that waits silently, and picks the exact moment to hit your vulnerability. What a great analogy, thanks

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  9. fatgirlinboxinggloves Avatar
    fatgirlinboxinggloves

    The image of the leaky tap is perfect for this piece. There’s something about water and baths/showers that always makes me nostalgic.

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    1. Know what you mean, I wonder why that is?

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  10. Beautiful imagery, little things triggering a waterfall.

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    1. Thank you, it is what happens.

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  11. Great images that you’ve evoked…and I wonder…a whole lot of symbolism? Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it.

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    1. No, this actually happened to me, trying to fix the damn shower triggered a massive grief/frustration moment for my dead husband.

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  12. KymmInBarcelona Avatar
    KymmInBarcelona

    Ah yes, I know this feeling well. It’s always the little things, the happy and the sad. ({}) Love the last line!
    (I have one about a mosquito : )

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    1. Thanks for your comment on the last line, not sure whether I got it right. The mosquito sound interesting.

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  13. These moments are hard to bare. You can’t turn off a leaky tap. Just have to let ’em drip. 😦 ❤

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    1. Yes, better out than compressed in. 🙂

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  14. Very nicely done, Claudette! The opening sentence was grabbing and the end was like a door slamming.

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    1. You always say such nice things Nate.

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  15. Those triggers are so frustrating and always leave me feeling shaken, like ‘you seriously just broke down over THAT?!’ This is a really well-written and relatable piece.

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    1. Thanks you Kay, it is quite amazing what gets you. You prepare for the biggies, and the littlies sneak right under the radar and zap you.

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  16. Wow, Claudette. I read this twice and the impact has stayed with me. I know this grief – unclogging the sink has reduced me to tears – and your writing brings it all back. Really well done.

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    1. Jo-Anne thank you for your lovely words. I can imagine that sink unclogging would be another place for this to happen to me. All those things that he did, that I now do, sometimes badly, sometimes well, are nasty little booby-traps waiting for me. Sympathy for your loss.

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  17. Gorgeous, Claudette, every word. I felt the whole moment right there with you. Wonderful job. Thank you for sharing and linking up.

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    1. What a lovely comment, thanks Christine. I’m really enjoying the whole 42 words things.

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  18. It never is what you expect, is it? Great job showing how a leaky faucet can trigger heartache.

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