It keeps growing out the wall
of a bathroom too wet
with moisture in the air.
A small thing
with a thin stem
and a wide cap that ombres,
darkness at the top and white at the bottom.
A mushroom or two
that the landlord keeps ignoring
along with the black spots
forming under the cabinets,
along with my complaints
that something is wrong.
The ventilation is bad.
The faucet keeps leaking.
You can smell the decay in the air!
You won’t listen to me.
I know you only painted over the black again.
I keep cutting the mushrooms down.
Snip.
Pulling them out.
Pop.
Trying to create the illusion
that they are not there
even though I know
they are growing.
Even though I know
I am breathing differently.
Even though I know
they will become something worse if they keep here inside my walls.
I can’t tell anyone else
because I know how this makes me look.
I cannot stop them.
