bits and pieces

to touch

I hold onto memories with my trembeling hands and i dont let go. Clenching my fists untill my nails dig into my skin, blood pouring down my wrists and i close my eyes and imagine that this is the way its supposed to be for everyone when they try to hold onto something that is long gone. Maybe it was not meant to be because i feel them crumbling under my fingers and transforming into dust that crawls from under my nails onto the floor, but i dont dare to open my fists hoping that there is still something left to hold on to. After years of clenched fists and fake smiles i meet someone that convinces me i should use my hands again, that i could create something beautiful with them if i just let go of the past. Day by day my fingers are peeled one by one and my fear of what i might find is rising ,but when the last finger is freed i find nothing . ive been holding onto a ghost of the past for so long, fearing the dreadful unknown ,that i forgot how to use my hands. Sore fingers are slowly turning ,every bone cracking under the pressure of my new movements and i realise i am terrified of a future where my arms have the powerful ability to twist and turn in inimaginable ways ,but im not alone now and i convince myself that change is not always a bad thing and that being stuck in the same wicked routine has only brought me pain and misery. I convince myself that I deserve a chance at touching again.