Your Hands poem

"I'm a romanticist."

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          જ⁀➴    °   જ⁀➴   °   જ⁀➴    °   જ⁀➴    °   જ⁀➴                

                   .𖥔 ݁ ˖           𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒆 𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌         ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ     

              ______________________________________ 𖹭.ᐟ

                     ⤹⤷.    ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ .    · ── ·    𝑻𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔   

                                                     ⌣ .     𓂃   ⏝ ⏝𓂃

           ⋆｡◛ ⊹ ࣪ ᡣ𐭩₊⋆     𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅         ► ... 𝓐ᥫ᭡.  

              ______________________________________ 𖹭.ᐟ

                ╰┈➤.   · .☘ ݁˖    °    ━━━    °   .   𝑨 𝒃𝒆𝒅?

       _________________     ___     ___     ___

        𝄢.      𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬   ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

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༄.° Poem 1

༄.° Poem 2

༄.° Ending

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    ✧˖°.    𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐎𝐧𝐞   ˙✧˖° :camera: ༘ ⋆｡˚

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                               𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 ♡ྀི ₊  

━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Your hands, so worn out but soft like the sand.

I'll hold on tightly, slowing it all down until you understand,

Until these hands offer everything you need.

I'm dying to see the beauty you bled,

Holding you gently with these hands.

For these hands are not the weight of a broken conviction,

But the hands of a mother who bores the sacrifice.

Your hands, so worn out but cradled every scar,

Turning silence into something sacrosanct.

Where did it go so wrong that you couldn't

Hold on as if everything went by?

I guess, there's nothing I can do to make you

Feel as though you're loved,

We might be alright, but hold on until the feelings are gone.

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   _________________     ___     ___     ___

    ✧˖°.    𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ˙✧˖° :camera: ༘ ⋆｡˚

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  𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𑁤

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

" How can we go back to being friends

when we just shared a bed?

Trying to silence back into friendship,

But the thread unravels, scarlet and tender.

How can you look at me and

Pretend not to know the language,

How it faltered your name when your lips

Were a secret I bore like a bruise?

It was last December when the ceiling watched us,

A quiet witness to the wrongdoing of skin against skin,

Of breath, we stole but never kept.

The devil in your eyes won't deny the lies you've sold,

I'm holding on too right while you go of this so casual

Like I'm someone you've never met.

How can we go back to being friends

When we just shared a bed?"

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"Poem two was a fun poem inspired by the song 'Back to Friends' by Sombr."

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    ༊࿐ ͎.   𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠   ⋆༄.°.

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Same designs; too lazy to start a new one. That's all for this blog.