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insularcortexPoems
I stabbed myself with scissors then I found it hard to stand. I only hope ripped sinews aren't familiar in your Hand. A gentle child of sunlight losing footprints in the sand, somewhere on a map, you form a compass of your Hand. Hear a universe expanding without heaven's killing brand. Fusion of the stars comes bold and tragic from your Hand. Metal falls on concrete walls. You hope that they withstand. Soft and aching, something burned by fire, like your Hand. Sunset skies and flaming eyes attempt their reprimand. Desperate for life, you grasp to end it by your Hand. Falling down with airplane trails, surviving where you land. Digging in the snow, perhaps the frost will save your Hand. Thinking of it's suffering and hate it should demand. You feel it when you see it, still you cannot lose your Hand. When I feel your fingers it's like lightning's reaching strands. Are memories like thunder when I reach to touch your Hand? I wouldn't know the answer and my love has come unplanned. So hold my skin like something lost and found upon your Hand. And finally, you find me, say you hope I'll understand that when your world collapses, it's just nice to have a Hand.
0
Jan 30, 2022
Jan 30, 2022 at 5:50 AM UTC
your Hand
I stabbed myself with scissors then I found it hard to stand. I only hope ripped sinews aren't familiar in your Hand. A gentle child of sunlight losing footprints in the sand, somewhere on a map, you form a compass of your Hand. Hear a universe expanding without heaven's killing brand. Fusion of the stars comes bold and tragic from your Hand. Metal falls on concrete walls. You hope that they withstand. Soft and aching, something burned by fire, like your Hand. Sunset skies and flaming eyes attempt their reprimand. Desperate for life, you grasp to end it by your Hand. Falling down with airplane trails, surviving where you land. Digging in the snow, perhaps the frost will save your Hand. Thinking of it's suffering and hate it should demand. You feel it when you see it, still you cannot lose your Hand. When I feel your fingers it's like lightning's reaching strands. Are memories like thunder when I reach to touch your Hand? I wouldn't know the answer and my love has come unplanned. So hold my skin like something lost and found upon your Hand. And finally, you find me, say you hope I'll understand that when your world collapses, it's just nice to have a Hand.
#hand#death#sadness#grief#love#exploration#rhyme
Written by
insularcortex
22/F/Canada
Jan 30, 2022
Jan 30, 2022 at 5:50 AM UTC
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