Tethered & Torn

Each pull, each drag, a burning sting,  

A ghost of comfort it used to bring.  

But wounds don’t heal when chains remain,  

And holding on just feeds the pain.  

The choice was clear: to bleed, to break,  

Or let it go for my own sake.  

So I released the rope with trembling breath,  

And met the fall, instead of death.  

The tether snapped; the silence grew,  

A hollow ache, but something new.  

For in the bleeding, life returned—  

A fire lit from all I’d burned.  

Let go, step free, and face the sky,  

Or be dragged low until you die.