but it was me who was away.
I found out that if you're not fully holding me,
I won't reach out to you.
See I'm scared of being broken again so
I stop myself from fully loving you,
as I do, and man I do,
I love you.
Your hands seemed far and in my mind,
they were holding other hands,
and by holding those infinite hands I was left adrift,
floating around you untouched by your light.
How can I make sure I'm special in your eyes
if I can only recognize it comparing myself
to those infinite hands that constantly glow on you?
I'm grateful for them.
They give you love, like mine,
but more, but different.
I only have two hands,
ten fingers,
two palms,
and though soft as they may be,
they are never going to fulfil,
your every corner.
And that's alright,
for you.
But for me it's not,
cause I fear.
I fear asking for more
in the wound of proving that woman wrong.
That I have something healthy,
17 years old, and still it hurts.
I fear talking, reaching out, expressing,
and so it went from bright red to night time again,
again and again.
Nobody's perfect and no one can be
if I don't tell what I need,
my needs, my needs,
my needs.
"Be inconvenient" says my phone.
A gentle reminder of just that:
stating my needs to rescue myself
from the darkness of this night.
I woke up sad today because of those other hands,
they are too bright compared to mine.
I have two hands that wonder if the wrinkles
and broken bits could ever be enough,
for anyone.
I have two hands that wonder if I am special
in your eyes
because my heart, my mind
they need to be,
to thrive.
I have two hands that reach out too lightly
I have two hands that need more courage,
not more pain or fear.
I know what I have to do,
I know to remind myself of all I can do,
all I can be.
But I also know I need to talk to you,
to state what I need to fully show how I love you
how I do,
because I love big and strong,
and I do,
I love,
I love you.