Maybe I'm the only one who thought it was a rule to our Tradition.
And the more I think about it the more upset I get.
At myself
But I can't stop the hand the clenches at the beating organ within my chest,
Or the burning sensation that builds behind my eyes.
'Sorry' is what I want to scream.
Sorry for not holding on tighter.
Sorry for not realizing you actually didn't need me to hold on but to let go completely.
I'm sorry that I still need you.
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