Cut Ties

My ears are bleeding, but you keep talking.
Mouth moving,
slower still.
I'm lost in the tranquil sound of my voice moving in through the speaker.
Can you hear that?
rish rish rish rish rish
That is the whisper
of my soul
drifting off into the sky.
Like a helium balloon, it doesn't wave or say goodbye.
Although we had a bond not quite like any other,
sometimes life is like that.
All strings can be cut instantly with a sharp enough blade.

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May-June Issue: Youthink Magazine