hang the clean laundry
on the rafter
above my head

tired hands
wring out drenched
sweaters

clothing above me dripping,
the drops fall on me
like rain

Right now, the only thing,
that's keeping me sane
is the sound, of the heavy drops
leaking from the damaged tap

As it falls into the tub
The sound pounds and pounds
on and soaks my hollow head
It drips from the
cracks on my scalp
drip by drip into my mind
My mind is drenched
My thoughts can't swim
There's a tsunami in my mind
a floating disaster
but you can't see

-Kaya

Smoothly shuddering, pleasure spurts.
Wonder relaxes relentlessly.
The pink woman drips conistently.
I think it's too enticing to resist
If you ask me honestly.

The cold locket
She gave you
Slipped from your neck
Falling between
Your bare *******
And down past
Your broken heart

You hugged
Your knees
That they might
Save you
And hold you
Together
For just a
Little while

Staring at your
Reflection
In the
Lukewarm water
That stagnated
At your thighs,
A white
Porcelain refuge
Surrounded by
Moldy tiles
Was your solace

The salty leakage
From your
Forest eyes
Fell faster
Than the
Squeaky faucet
That never stopped
D R I P P I N G

The cool
Air grazed
Your spine
And sent
A peppered
Patch of
Chill bumps
Down your arms,
But you
Didn't seem
To mind

All you
Could feel
Was the
Broken pieces
Of your heart,
S c a t t e r e d
In the water
Slicing your body
Like tiny
Razor blades
By their
Jagged, Uneven
Edges

With one
Flip of
Your toe
You whispered
Goodbye,
As the necklace
That she
Gave you
And the
Pieces of
Your heart
That she
Took from you
Slid down
The drain,
Into the
Place Where
Broken Hearts Go.

You were a leaky faucet
Letting words out on accident
Wasting what little water you had left
Dripping
Slowly
Draining into the sewer
All alone
You were slowly dripping away

Paint drips disguise and
obliterate lies like ink-
daubed tattoos on eyes
fooling unconditional
considerate conviction.

There was a howl, as the faucet began to drip drip drip, and the creaks of a house built too long ago stretched her weary bones as the faucet proceeded to drip drip drip, and a man and a woman held on tight, this memory being just a glimpse, as the faucet kept up its drip drip drip, and a child cried as his toe was stubbed, and still the faucet dripped dripped dripped, and the family fixed it, and so it stopped, and grey was in season as the winter grew near, and the house was empty, and the family was gone, and yet the faucet again began to drip drip drip.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I watched the scarlet specks slap the stage that resided beneath my feet. She grabbed my hand, some unknown perfect stranger, still confined to her own hospital bed, and said, “It’s going to be okay. You did the right thing.” Returning my countenance, that had thus far been afflicted, with a smile. And oh how I wish I could believe her, but even without glancing up I was all too aware that her eyes were out of her lips’ jurisdiction.
Still I stood in place; my palm yet to be released by this compassionate maiden who I knew recognized her own ****** and pangs in my premature senescence. But again, I focused on the crimson beads that remained between my legs, muddying the unblemished sheen of that linoleum floor.
This junction of misery and recognition of loss came to a precipitous end when the nurse tromped through and encroached on our plane. Hurriedly, she jostled and jammed me into a small bathroom; the impression of the unnamed woman’s touch still native to my hands.