Hold my hand.
Hold my hand so that we never separate.
So that I won't lose you in the maze we call life.
The life I try to decorate.
Stay glued to each other as if we're the earth and the moon and clothes and perfume and the sky and the sea and the Queen with her bees.
So that I won't be looking for you in a crowd and wondering if it's not my hand that you hold but another.
Wondering if I'm wasting my time if you have a lover.
Hold my hand.
Hold my hand because of it's warmth.
Warmer than the feeling of autumn and spring.
Warmer than the tears that drop from your eyes the ones that you let sink.
Warmer than a blanket wrapped around you for comfort I could do that too.
Warmer than the coldness of yours that I shiver everytime we brush past wondering if I'm the first thing on your mind.
Or the last.
My hands are warm.
The type of warm that would have you itching for more.
The type that would make you search for physical warmth in everyone else.
The type of warm that comforts you as they say.
The type of warm that relieves you after a cold day.
Hold my hands.
Hold my hands because I feel like it.
Because I want to intertwine our fingers together for a day.
See if it makes you feel the same.
And if it doesn't then what can I say?
If it doesn't then I'll cherish that feeling forever.
In the same way, I cherish pictures of the sky no matter what weather.
Hold my hands if you feel lost.
Whether lost in the beauty of someone else it doesn't matter.
My hands can wait for a day.
Or two.
Maybe a month and maybe a year.
I can wait my whole life for you.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Cracked Surface (That You Don't Seem To Notice)
PoesíaA bunch of poems I wrote on various occasions. I'm a beginner so it's not that good and some are not about me. Sometimes I think about others who have gone through way worse than me whenever I'm on my bed breaking down. I'm not someone whose parents...
