I need a bath like a pregnant lady needs pickles at 2 a.m.
I don't need one of those cozy, long baths filled with bubbles and soft music.
I need the kind of bath that is so hot, it leaves me sweating out three years of regret, and brings me to the point of an exhaustion so all-encompassing that I sleep for twelve hours straight.
I need a bath so scalding that I will relish zero below, and be left reminiscing about summers that I thought were hot before that bath.
I need a bath that will make my blood boil and my skin ruby-red-hot.
I need a bath to leave all others behind- the kind that I will tell my grandchildren about, should I survive.
I need a bath that is hell-fire and damnation to the point that I come out fresh as a kitten, repentant of all the hell-fire I have dished out.
I need a bath that will leave me begging for the Sahara- the kind that will give me a heat stroke so hefty, I will miss simple dehydration.
I need a bath.