Drip

I owe my life to things that drip on silent nights

When the muted light of moons penetrate curtains

And blind the dreams of shut-eyed sleepers

Limey faucets packed with slippery muck

That immanent spillage that distracts the mind

Awaiting that muffled dripping sound, shaking

Telling myself that if such things can be heard

In invisible waves invading my wary ears

Then I have successfully survived

Until the next drop.

Reviews

[terry smith]

sounds like how an addict tells time....you are a talent!!

[Kelly Scheppers]

You are such a pleasure to read, Jamie!

[missjlw]

I love that you use such distinguished language. They way that you combine words makes me jealous! I love the line "Limey faucets packed with slippery muck" That line just rolls off the tongue!

[Jamie Wilkinson]

Thanks, I'm glad you liked it :3

[Luna]

Oh, I love that there's no commas, leaves me breathless. Loved it

[Jamie Wilkinson]

Thanks ^_^