Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound of the rain falling outside, matches that of the tears falling from my eyes.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
My heart pulls as I remember her last days.
It breaks when I remember the pain.
The tears flow harder than the rain.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
5 weeks, 17; 8 and 25
Eyes puffy, face wet.
She's one Dingo I'll never forget.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
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