A pork chop of a poem

Thought process one:

A ballon flies away

Not because it is weightless

Not because it is pushed by the wind

But because

Whatever was holding it

Has let it go

It can now roam

Because it is no longer tied down

By this world

Thought process two:

As a child

I always wanted to be held

Without being hurt

I don’t want to be held anymore

I just want

to be let go

Thought process three:

When you sit with your feelings

It’s either like

Soaking in a warm bathtub

Or drowning in a cold ocean

The problem is

You don’t know

Which experience will take you

So you just sit

And hope

That you don’t drown