Slow Motion

The hurt is always worse than the fall, especially when you look and there is no one to call. Minutes all seem to go in slow motion, Slowly, like pouring a bottle of lotion. Something you have always believed, only to see, and yet not be relieved. Two worlds come together, and then collide, like the ocean, beating against the tide. All the while they were pretending, your wounds could have been mending. It never helped that you should have known, even if it was something you were never shown. You can never lessen the pain of the cut, if the door of knowledge is left shut.....