The clocks tick down from hours to seconds
leaving me at the end of a lonely road
where you and I stand at different ends
of the paths we used to tread on together.

Always out of time, aren't I?

Running.
Breathless.

I don't even have the time to put on my
**** shoes.

I am rushing down the corridors,
I don't have the key to the car,
I'm still trying to put on my shirt
and I am trying to do it all at once.

Rushing.
Out of breath.
Tears now falling.

Too late, always, aren't I?

Like a thunderstrike straight to the chest,
I get news--
far too late for the girl far too late--
you are somewhere on a bridge
waiting to take a leap of faith.

Lost in seconds pouring away
like rain on the sill.

Lungs ablaze.

Six blocks down to the river.
Distances counting themselves
from inches to naught.

A splash in the river.

Always too late.
Always too late.

Lost you.
**Too.