You held my hand,
the whole ride home.
Cold hands twisted into warm hands, your heated fingers curled from the palm of my hand, into my fingertips.
You pinched my rosy cheeks
and muttered something, I didn't quite get. shaking your head and smiling when I asked you to repeat it.
Tic toc, the clock stroke 11:00.
You made me rest my head against your shoulder, tired of seeing me rest it against someone else who wasn't you.
"I have a shoulder too" you whispered,
I laid my head on the crook of your neck, even if I was uncomfortable, I endured it as you rested your chin upon my temple.
You licked my hand. Touched my neck, soothed my fingers.
I laughed, and you smiled, because that is just what we do.
The look you gave me when I spoke to him, was the give away that maybe these feelings were mutual.
Holding my hand, hugging me tight, grabbing my waist, caressing my back, ruffling my hair, whispering sweet nothings into my ear are something friends don't usually do.
Not that I mind, because I'm holding your hand, being held by you, being caressed by you, being loved by you..
even if that's something friends don't usually do.
02/17/18
YOU ARE READING
Poems from her
PoesíaA series of poems written by me, about love, feeling happy, self conscious or unworthy. I am not a professional writer even though I'd love to be so don't come for me >:v please vote and comment peeps
