When he placed the string into my small hand
I made sure to wrap it twice around my wrist
Bunny ears tightly crossed and looped around each other
linked us like strands of DNA
I watched as the other kids ran around playing
Their balloons fluttering through the air behind them
It was then I realized my balloon was pulling on its string
The string that connected us,
the string I clutched onto so tightly my knuckles whitened,
was tearing.
I was warned to not let go
But what if it wanted to leave?
What then?
My arms had grown tired by the time it snapped
Tilting my head back
I watched the balloon glide away without a second glance
Leaving me with the threads of a string
You once taught me how to tie.