The hands that used to pull me close
Were twice the size of mine.
They’d stroke my hair and hold my hand;
Let our fingers intertwine.
The hands that used to hold me tight
Had short and bitten nails,
And a crooked finger on the right;
Such imperfect perfect details.
And the hands that used to love me
They were tender yet so strong.
A simple touch would make me weak
As their fingers traced along-
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
The hands that used to pull me close
Were twice the size of mine.
They’d stroke my hair and hold my hand;
Let our fingers intertwine.
The hands that used to hold me tight
Had short and bitten nails,
And a crooked finger on the right;
Such imperfect perfect details.
And the hands that used to love me
They were tender yet so strong.
A simple touch would make me weak
As their fingers traced along-
