It doesn't stop does it?
The falling.
If you never knew when it started.
Or never accepted it.
I guess then you wouldn't know when you'd hit the bottom
I don't know how to stop it
Reaching for his hand with all of me
But knowing there is too much of him
Or IT.
Whatever it, is.
Like watching a small child stumble and jerk on their mothers arm.
But I can't be his mother
Lover.
And seeing the slow motion lurch open
in glorious high definition high spec
The tug on the tendons and thunk of sockets
ricochet and ripple uncontrolled.
So uncontrolable.
When did he trip?
Why can't I tell?
Or was the not telling the making as well?
I refuse to watch the rabbit hole swallow
If he goes down
I will always follow.