Drip, Rememberance, Drip

I’m sitting in a dark room; I feel you stare at me

I’m gliding down a deep embakement and I fall off

I hear you catch me; I smell you clothe me

Rememberance of the night once loved so great

Remembering that lonely feeling of the admiration lost

Not wanting to touch me; you sit in a dark room

I’m glaring and staring, yet everyone is sharing you

I heard drip, drip in the still of the night …

Article by Curt Bizelli

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