Like water inside of a dripping faucet,
I cling to the familiar.
I make the rusty metal rim my home.
A single molecule
sticking to what I know.
Positive,
that I cannot release the negative.
Until the weight becomes too much
and I lose my grip.
Everything changes
in a split second.
Free falling,
but not alone.
Drip, drip, drip.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry for the Soul
PoetryPoetry for positivity, happiness, and growth. Words for those who know what it's like to take risks, create art, stand out from the crowd, have moments of self-doubt, and moments of triumph.
