Maybe A True Story

Hearts beat out of sync. Sweat rolls off eroded skin. And time flows past ever so slowly, like a sloth climbing from one vine to another. Maybe it is true to itself of being what it really is. Maybe not. But who could possibly know the truth of an impossibly maybe true story? In what way is a heart to beat when time is not truly there? How is skin to erode when sweat is to cease existence with time? Can a sloth really even move with time as an equal? Does one ask them self the truth behind a maybe true story of falling behind time? Of time being torn away piece by wretched piece, as we turn our backs on the past, forgetting the future? Maybe this story is true... Maybe not. Why don't you find out?