My wrists are getting soar
I can feel the blisters forming on my hands
I'm starting to get tired
No, don't think like that
I can't let go
I have to hold on
I want to hold on
I need to hold on
My fingers almost slip
No
I switch hands
Just for a little while longer
Come on you can do this
Just count
1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10
Come on you can't let go
Use both hands if you have to
Wait
This isn't just ironic
This always happens
The harder I pull
The harder you pull away
I look at you
I look at me
I'm not happy anymore
You have just become work
I look down at my hands
They are red
Red from gripping
Gripping for so long
Gripping onto something that just wasn't there
Maybe its time
You pull again
This time I let my fingers slip
I finally did it
I finally let you go