Why do yours shake when they reach my waist

why do they make me want to grow smaller and smaller and


why do your fingernails

dig into my skin as I speak

why do you think that mine have so many lines engraved, and

why does the universe exist? 

Hold my hand 

Comfort me and be my safety

Hold so tight I don't think you'll let go hold so tight my fingers become purple and I shake as much as you do

hold so tight I feel the bones in my wrist begin to concave under the pressure of loving you and being lovable to you and letting you love me


when will this (claw marks, emptyy promises)

become (no more anxious hands) 

something beautiful? 



Hands (pt.2)

Yours don't shake like his. 

You smile as they reach my waist and gently press your lips to my forehead, 

breathe deeply as you rub my back so I can fall asleep. 

Tell me your theories as to why there are so many lines engraved in mine,

and why the universe exists.

I watch them as you play guitar, hold your nephew, and make my favorite dinner,

Strong and steady, though you've been using them all day,

working to give me all that you've promised


my hand

hold me the way I know means you'll never let go

note the way my veins are blue on one, and purple on the other

hold them until I've released all my pressure hold so tight they become one 

hold them unti I feel content and then

release me

I watch you remain by my side

hold my fragile heart

in your hands. 


This poem is about: 



Your use of descriptive language and imagery is beautiful and I like how you juxtaposed the unhealthy and healthy relationship. 

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerfully expressed! Truly powerful! Keep sharing keep sharing! The world needs your expression! Keep sharing your life your mind your heart!

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