Holding you in arms was my choice,
Letting go was yours.
Promising 'us' was my choice,
Shattering it was yours.
Entering into your heart was my choice,
Pretending to open the door was yours.
Loving you was my choice,
Giving up on 'us' was yours.
Holding onto a thread of life was my choice,
Cutting it off was yours,
Which set me Free,
But not from you,
Free from myself.
Maybe, this too was my choice,
Not yours.

.    .    .