Him

A pulse. Sometimes faint, sometimes loud ... but always ever beating there.

A constant reminder of far of power.

No more than a few moments given, but the repercussions vibrate to the core.

It will stop, it will go away, if you try hard and remember your place.

The irrational fear that filled the air, propped up the long thought-out explanations of a second chance.

Long of desire, short on the confidence to see it through.

Unwilling to risk the years of silence, pleas of desperation, whispered to always disappointment.

But it’s real, It's there, just as you remember, you can feel the touch you so longed for.

What was it?

What is it?

Just take it off. You’ll regret it you always do.

There’s a rumble, a rolling drive, stop fighting, rope lashing, left, or right down the hall?

Right, just like it was all along.

Not fear or lack of desire, what is it? resistance?

The time for games has come and gone. Imagination was no match for reality.

Pleasantly surprised. Don’t you dare close your eyes.

Let it in, let it come, a place where dreams and reality collide.

Fell off the edge at thrice the speed.