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No Strings Attached


We used to hold our love
upon this simple string.
Youíd hold one end,
Iíd hold the other,
and wherever we went
we would always remain connected
by the thread of our love.  
Often times youíd 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 youíve held on long enough.

Itís been two months now,
but I still canít 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.

Itís time I give up hope
of your return.
I must face the fact that
youíll never pick up your end again,
let go,
and join the rest
of the stringless world.



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All poems and photos copyright of Jared Moll. Do not illegaly copy or distribute any poems or photos without proper permission of Jared Moll. Page designed by Jared Moll. © January 2002. All rights reserved.