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Drip

  • Joe Miraglia
  • Jun 22, 2019
  • 1 min read

The drip contained in these walls.

A constant inconsistent noise

within the halls.

Alone with her thoughts

left to ponder.

Eyes blink, one, two, one, two.

Breath staggered, hands shaking.

A lone tear travels down her cheek.

Sound once filled these halls.

Laughter and happiness.

Now all that remained was

Self-doubt, disquiet, and dread,

as she walked through the old home.

Planks creaked below her.

Her heart remained in her throat.

Her wandering had brought her

to her old bedroom.

As she opened the decrepit door,

She already knew what lay beyond.

Her most loyal and faithful friend

lay there, alone.

A slow drip from his neck.

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