to the aching wretch i felt when i watched you slip away like lonely drips falling from the faucet after it was turned off, almost as if i were left behind. your voice leaking like the sound each lonely drop makes when it hits the ceramic ocean. your love that was once tidal waves drifting into a small mist. we’re older now, and wiser. the metal on the left side has rusted therefore the touch of cold seems more attractive than warm.

as each drop falls through the middle, i think of all the opportunities we missed. all that we let slip through the cracks just as the water falls through into the abyss. burrowing into nothing.