i remember that day
i took your hand,
hoping to find a little bit of warmth:
your fingers did not curl around mine;
i froze.
"You don't want to?"
i asked, my voice rising a little,
in time with my temper.
yours matched mine.
"what? i didn't say anything."
my fingers curled around your unmoving hand.
i wanted to cry.
we continued to walk,
my eyes staring at the concrete.
i wanted so much to be cared for.
and here i was instead,
holding on to unhappiness.
it was a quiet walk home,
it was cold.
i took my hand into my pocket,
and you said nothing.
i always needed you more,
more than you did me.