You held the same wrist

Updated: Aug 11

TW: Talks of self harm and suicidal ideation.

Your hand touched the same wrist the sharp ends did

You saw skin and I saw red, and even if you never knew it,

That was your way of telling me that you see some life in me

When all I saw was a way out

Of, well, all of this

From holding my hand to cross the street,

A high-five to share a moment of amusing triumph,

Or a gentle grasp of both my palms to calm me down

You held a hand, a quiet hand

That bears quieter blisters that never dare whisper themselves to you

and I know you didn’t knew of them

But my heart is warm for the reason that

I never needed to tell you what I did

For you to hold my hands in yours

And tell me that you love me, because

You did it anyway.

I stopped wanting to sleep forever a while ago

But when you hold my hands in yours, it makes me wonder

Whether staying awake, even past my bedtime is such a bad

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