Angsty Teen Poetry.

Hands.

I'd let you hold my hand; please hold my hand.

I want someone to hold my hand-anyone. May they be cruel or loving; just don't let go for my sake.

You may caress my hand and treat it with respect and kindness.

Or, if you wish, you may also treat it with cruelty and hatred.

Use it for your own selfish desires; force it onto me; make me cry out and plead in any way you wish.

Drive a knife through my hand and make me watch it bleed out as you tell me you don't care.

Rip and twist at the nails, making me flinch in pain.

Break my dainty fingers one by one, so I cannot fight back if I were to ever wish to.

Drag me through hell and back; watch me burn as the skin from my hand melts off.

Just don't let go; I'm numb.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter to me whether it hurts or not, for I do not matter.

I just want to know what it would feel like if I did matter.

I know I'm a giddy fool; I knew that a long time ago.

For love is the cruellest joke of them all.

But if it means I can feel it for once, I'll keep my clown makeup on as I blush.

- V.
(P.S: Yeah, I don't really like this one either; a little too much on the cringe factor..)