I have learnt to let go.
Sometimes kicking and screaming,
And sometimes with alacrity.
I've learnt to walk away.
Sometimes I've been pushed,
And at times my legs sprouted wheels that couldn't get me away fast enough.
And yet at other times, I've walked away without letting go.
Until it tore from me. Leaving edges too frail to heal.
I've built up caluses, and scabs I've long since stopped picking at.
Oh how good I've become at building walls!
My fortress withstands seiges and attacks, and lives to tell the tale.
I am my best general at war;
I've not known peace enough to know who I need to be.
I was prepared for onslaughts but...
But never for you.
You walked through my walls like a wrecking ball of hope and damnation,
And my fortress fell to your charms,
And promises of tomorrows.
Tomorrows I could picture, hopes I could touch and feel and gently put under my pillow for luck.
I go to sleep with bits of you always in the periphery,
Fluttering away like fireflies in love.
A tiny delight in the dark.
I hold on to promises and they pull me out of holes I didn't realise I had dug.
I hold on to love, and it warms me on cold nights and colder days.
I hold on to memories and rituals, and contentment.
I hold on to you.
Oh how I hold on to you.
I know exactly how to let go,
And I hold on to you tighter.
Planting my feet, digging my nails in,
Loving you with everything I have left.
And you holding on to me.
