I have memories,
nothing more than memories,
of the time you held my hand so tight in yours,
at times you crushed my hand so tight the pain seared,
my hand was your support mechanism,
at your darkest frightened moments,
my fingers are numb,
as is my heart,
my heart more so,
my digits are chilled,
so please don't hold my hand again,
unless you are one of my patients in need of clinical support,
If I wasn't breathing and crying,
I could almost profess to being dead.
I am a professor of truth,
a professor of the abstract mind,
the mind of non-committal dreams.
As he cried and he cried,
I don't want you to go,
but I did,
And how I loved you!
(C) Livvi