Memoirs Of A Teenage Heart

I held your hand, and now I won't let go

I held your hand, and now I won't let go

I reached for you.

Your hollow fingers flayed

within the Autumn breeze,

yearning to capture the 

last breath the Earth inhaled.

Your palms blossomed

like winter roses,

needing the sun’s caress

to warm those frozen veins.

Your wrists shook,

revealing red lines of poetry

that wrote of night skies

darkened from loss of stars.

The breeze threatened to

to carry you away,

and I reached for you

across an eternity of solitude.

I held your hand,

Because I wanted to show you

the way the sun kissed your palms,

filling the hollowness of your fingers

with the warmth of a new day.

I wanted you to see 

that its golden light

embraced red with ivory,

leaving you with a clean slate.

I needed you to feel

that I could reach you

across those realms of darkness

that have held you for far too long.

My fingers entwined with yours,

and I pressed my mouth

to those crimson poems,

in a plea for you to stay.

I held your hand,