Self-fulfilling Prophecy

One hundred small balloons

String wrapped around her hand

She always gripped so tightly

Her fist permanently red 

But to watch them float away 

Would cause her too much pain 

She can’t stand the thought 

She thinks too much

Holding on keeps her safe 

Slowly over years 

Her fingers became numb 

Loosened grip 

Strings start to slip until all the balloons were gone 

She cried for just one moment

Then she realized 

She only had herself to blame 

For holding on so tight