Is it ever too late? Find your self changing minute to minute, rapid cycling of up and down, feeling in between stop and go, hanging from a thread?
At first you don’t like him, yell and scream, at apparent snubs. Total dissociation from reality, lost in your mind. Words traveling at light speed, muffled voices and sirens pass.
Begging not below you, you cut the thread, edge of the abyss, you tumble down. Reaching, reaching you grab hold, falling with him at your side. Two lost souls stuck in time. Tumbling…
change of mind. No parachute to catch the wind, wind catches the leaves swirling through the autumn air, landing in a winter, stark and bare. Your frigid bodies laid to rest.