The floating sensation, the deep ache. 

The world succumbing beneath our feet. 

Once collided and intermingled, the world's part. 

Hands glide alongside, fingers embrace each other. 

But reaching out, trying to find the hand that will reverse the fractures of life floating away... the hand that would bring my world to one. 

My outstretched, strained limb only being able to hold onto what little hope left,

Hoping, praying your fingers might untangle from hers, and reach in my direction with the same haste that of my own. 

But only the foolish would try to grasp something so out of reach, something that was worlds away, to begin with.