We never held hands, at least you never held my hand
And now I'm worried that will never happen
that my hands will stay empty forever.
My hands are perpetual black holes of happiness
******* the joy out of everything they touch
and I'm sorry you got caught up in that
you had no idea what you were doing to yourself when you asked me to talk
and I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the mess you were willingly walking into.
Maybe things would have turned out differently
but I can tell you one thing;
the next time I see you
the first thing I will do is hold my own hand
and pretend it's you.