I thought of it as letting you go.

When I should have known, 

it was setting myself free.

The hand you had at my throat.

Was never gentle.

The burden of your love pinning me down.

Was never right.

Bound by blood.

Bound by name.

Bound through title.

It’s so fragile in my hand.

Just the slightest pressure.

And the bonds crumble to dust.

I thought of it as letting you go.

When I should have known, 

it was setting myself free.

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