Your Hands

To feel alone, 

Is to feel alive. 

Or so I’ve told myself

Over and over 

Every night as I curl into the warmth of my blanket, 

And let the comfort soak through my skin.


To feel alone 

Is to be, 

Be something you 


Want to be, 

To know with every passing moment 

Your heart isn’t missed,

Your fingers aren’t intertwined,

Your mind isn’t at rest.


I hold my twin flame high,

A cry for help

Among the already ignited,

Summer trees.


My voice an echo,

Too distant to be reached, 

I wonder if they care enough 

To know.


I’ve been held hostage for far too long,

These four walls whisper to one another,

As I stare into the 



Let me hold myself 

One last time 

Under these covers 

Just once more. 


So they know I wasn’t alone,

When they come to 

Take me 


Photo: Daria Shevtsova on