Unclasping, losing, giving up,
dropping it, liberating, saying stop.

Loosening, fading, unbinding,
making yourself scarce, freeing.

Hopping away permanently,
disentangling from the word “we”

Whistling solo, removing binds,
Closing your eyes, eternal blinds.

Turning away, not looking back,
your resolve remains solid rock.

That hard ache sigh, resigned,
you tell yourself: I’m fine.

Because sometimes letting go,
is an act most kind.

06/06/2023

Posted on 06/06/2023
Copyright © 2024 Johanna May