One year, One month.

The thread grows in length, but shrinks in importance.

It's becomes soft and weak, ready to snap.

You drench it in ink, which can only make it worse.

Ignoring it completely now, like it doesn't even exist.

Then it breaks. Finally. You feel relieved.

It sits there on the ground for what seems like ages.

You never even bother to look at it.

It was once bright white, strong, meant to last.

But you let it go. You let it go.

One day, for whatever reason, you notice it again.

But this time it's even more beautiful than it had ever been before.

You pick it up, smile, and lace it through your shoes.

This time, it'll be forever. Because you know better.