Holding

Sometimes I feel like I don't belong here. Hanging on the invisible branch. My body is too weary. It tells me that I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'm gonna bumped myself on the floor. But my heart tells me a different thing. It tells me that I can do it. I'm not gonna hurt myself by bumping my body onto the floor. I don't wanna regret what I've done in the future. But don't you see these branch-cuts in my hands?