Wishy Washy

Dirt.

 

It's all around me, filling every crevice to the fullest extent.

 

Smell.

 

I breath it in with every fragile breath.

 

Taste.

 

I choke on the musty grit between my teeth.

 

Touch.

 

Warm hands pulls me from death's reach.

 

Sound.

 

His whisper betrays his cruelty...

 

Dirt.

 

 

Reviews

[Jack...]

Fast paced down and dirty. I like the format of this piece.

[SamanthaMarie]

Haha, thank you, Jack.

[TheDuchessDiary]

It's cute (^^,)

[SamanthaMarie]

Haha, thank you.

[Frieda P]

Sounds like you know 'what's his face' too. Good one.

[SamanthaMarie]

What? I have no idea about who you are refering to lol

[Frieda P]

Oh sorry, my sincere apologies. I just realized this is about a dusty old basement! ;-)

[SamanthaMarie]

No worries!

[That_Girl]

Ooh creative! Double sided... I like it!

[SamanthaMarie]

I feel like I should recite this at one of those...things...I forgot what they're called, but you read along to an intense beat.

[That_Girl]

Oh.... not sure haha

[Baby Ricochet]

Wow! Sounds like you've been to Aphganistan.

[SamanthaMarie]

Haha, wouldn't it be sand rather than dirt?