Pull…

We can undo the knot, that keeps it all in.
You can walk away with it, still attached to the skin
and I will unravel.
Peel. Fray, and open up like a unbound flower.
Allowed to breath from the first time.
To breathe, and then to wilt, and fall limply
to my knees, and you tug at the last
of the thread that so beautifully/
kept me together.
It was you
that stitched
it all together
in the beginning, when I
was but a whisper of who I am now.
Yours to build or to destroy.
It’s always up to you.
Right?