The first string was broken a young age, the loss of a parent. It turned the world around me into a messy spiral soon after.
The second string was cut in kindergarten when I was very quickly seperated from the friend I had made when she moved away.
The third string broke the time I heard my dad and grandma screaming back and forth about how they despised each other so much.
The fourth string snapped when I read a letter my mom had wrote to my dad about how much she didn't want him to take me away from her. Too soon.
The fifth string slowly wore away as I seperated from my best friend and we became so distant.
The sixth string snapped when I reached middle school and I quickly went from a student who cared about grades all the way down to a student who was broken and ridden with immense anxiety about even leaving the house.
The seventh string, the string left, the string left to break. The one, that if it breaks i'm done. One day I know it will be in half, but before that occurs I hope to have had some strings mended whether it be knotted by someone or suddenly I gather up the strength to fix it myself. They wont last forever but they'll last long enough to keep me going until I have to fix others.
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Existential
PoetryLife is an ever changing series of open doors and paths told from millions of perspectives. Here is just life told from 3 people.
