Fingers
Reach out to me
Your weak arms lift; bruised joints, and trembling muscles
Your hand reaches out, opening your palm, fingers
Twitching, not used to feeling so free
The ice of your touch, like the first light snow
Sends a shiver over my whole body as it lands on my skin
Your hand fits so easily against mine, the lines of each
Just blending together.
I look to your face
Your sad eyes already flicking to mine, a gaze like marble
Cold and strong, a shine in the corner,
Hiding your richness
The roughness of your wrists hurts me,
My heart aches as I feel them
Pain so real and blunt, yet
So completely invisible. The irony of an injury
To empty to reach the real world
I peel back the sleeves covering your hideous secrets
I run my fingertips over each and every lovely line
As soon as my fingers leave your skin, there's nothing there
The ghost of hopelessness never really there
I look to your face, a smile, and
I walk away from the mirror.
yoo, another poem. this isn't an English class poem, but I did write it last year too.
YOU ARE READING
Some poems
PoetryThese are some poems I've written over the past few years in class and out of it. I don't think anyone will read these, so I'm only gonna upload them randomly when I feel like it. If anyone does read these, hope ya like em. If you feel inclined, p...
