Drip

Drip Drip Drip The tile floor is my beat The sink is my melody What time is it? How many unbearable hours have passed? Drip Drip Drip I am in a box of confusion and love and hate. Each blink is a push up, Each movement, a mile. What day is it? What month? What year? Drip Drip Drip My eyes focus on foreign objects. They are as confused as I. They tear up, water falls, they dry, the cycle continues. Finally they close, and all that’s left is the melody. Drip Drip Drip