No Strings Attached

We used to hold our love
upon this simple string.
You’d hold one end,
I’d hold the other,
and wherever we went
we would always remain connected
by the thread of our love.  
Often times you’d go away,
sail off into the fog 
until I could no longer see you
but I could feel the string in my hand
remain tight, and I always knew
you were holding onto the other end.  

And then one day, without a reason
you packed up and left,
dropped your frayed end 
at the door and left me
with a limp string
hanging from my grasp.
I never even noticed
when your end began to sag
or when you decided 
that you’ve held on long enough.

It’s been two months now,
but I still can’t let go of my end;
the lifeless cord 
still dangles behind me.
What once used to be carried
over mud puddles and shards of glass
now drags through them.
Dirty, torn and bruised,
The thread begins to unwind.

It’s time I give up hope
of your return.
I must face the fact that
you’ll never pick up your end again,
let go,
and join the rest
of the stringless world.