I stood still like a frozen pole
when you held your hand out to me;
With that one swift movement
I felt my lips suddenly turning pale
I felt it resonate–mumbling what ifs
I felt desperate
Of these comforting misfits
I was fine when there
was no hand in front of me,
I was fine with these lips
uttering my own apologies,
but then you held out
your hand just like that–
hands that I have been waiting for ever since.
You only came when I felt comfortably numb
so tell me why,
why would you only show up at times like these?
I would love to take your hand,
I would love to–
but every time I try to reach it,
anxiety starts to hammer my ribs
and I cannot let these break just like that
for these ribs are the cages that protect my heart–
cages that assures I am safe.
I returned my hand to where it belong,
to where it feels safe–
I put it behind me
and found pure bliss,
this bliss murmuring that I was safe—
you were safe for now.
I felt afraid
because holding another person’s hand means,
“I trust you”
“you are safe with me”
“I will fight for you”
but you see,
these hands are perfectly shaped weapons
I try to keep to keep close
for I cannot witness another
person bleed with pain,
I cannot witness another person
look at me with shame–
for these hands are guns
that learned to shoot bullets instead of flowers
to keep me sane,
and let you know that
people like me are dangerous for you to keep.
Here as I speak,
I give my deepest apologies
for the souls I shoot with bullets–
with the reasons that came out selfishly.
But I want you to understand
that I did it because I stood for my own defense–
because no one ever did.
When you held out your hand
When you tried to give me a flower–
I had this silly thought
that you knew I was dying.
It petrified me
that you would enter my life
to **** me even more.
To let me die even more.
I pointed my hand at your head–
now I hope you do not ask
any more questions,
I hope you realize
this is the end.
(a long *** poem)