The Cutting of the Ties

Flailing fingers grasp the empty air.
As the cutting of the ties comes to pass.
The only thing she had to hold on to
Has been left to die.
Been left to rot.

We stood atop the building
Together.
As one.
As we always had been.
Hands locked, unmoving.
Simply staring out
At the expanse below us.
"Death is so simple,"
She muttered,
And I shook my head.
I said,
"For you, my dear, it is not, for I will never let go."
"I will never leave you."
She looked at me, stunned.
As if she hadn't known
It would be like this.
She took the hand that clasped hers
And placed both her own around it.
And then she let go.
She twisted around,
Put a hand at my back,
And planted a single kiss on my cheek,
Along with the words
That sparked the suspicion:
"I'm sorry."

Flailing fingers grasp the empty air.
As the cutting of the ties comes to pass.
And, as I plummet to ground like a stone,
The reality hits me like the road hits my face:
All was for nothing.