“THE DRIP”

I lose myself
as if
I'd ever been
found.

I move away.
I left today.
I can't stop
running.
Like my
refrigerator,
the days are
dripping
onto the floor.
I'd get my own
drip fixed,
but
I don't drip
outside myself.

narrative poem written on 11-24-2013 by: on mattkane.com
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