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 **** 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.