3 a.m. Thirst

3 a.m. ThirstNarrated by Emma Totaro

0:00

Throat grating thirst

steals sound sleep.

Lungs about to burst,

blankets in a heap.

The glass beside my bed lies

empty, not even a d

                                 r

                                   o

                                      p

to ease anguish away.

I need the dryness to stop.

Frigid floorboards groan

as I tiptoe

                   down

                              the

                                      hall.

The distance left to water unknown,

darkness, my only pitfall.

The screech of the sink

shivers down my spine,

but this holy drink

introduces me to the divine.

Eyes  droop,

                        drifting fast.

My bed tells me to hurry.

Catching up on dreams passed,

the empty glass no longer a worry.