Let Go.

I just put my hand over my head and thought,
There's so much to the hand than the hand itself,
What if it was cut off and grief sets in,
Consumed by anger and succumbed to sadness,
All the days you took it for granted, now it is separate from your body,
You yearn for the attachment...you take a look at it, taking it closer,
Touching yourself, smelling it, seeing it for what it is, the softness,
The uniqueness of each finger, the beauty of your nails, femininity of your thumb,
The feeling is intense than when it was intact.
In your memories, the days you spent together, obeying your orders,
Submitting to your demands, raping them, caressing you, bathing you, feeding you,
Sometimes it got tired and the muscles became sore but it was always silent,
Speaking in gestures whenever you wanted affection,
Now you regret for the love you never expressed.

On your darkest night,
Lying on your bed hugging it tightly wishing it was glued on you,
Promising yourself to love it better, it is going to rot anyway,
Would you love it the same? It's selfish to stay,
In the end, make peace with your heart and let go, it's okay.