Your Hands

Your Hands

I want your hand to walk with me down a long path, just you and me lost in chatter, in the woods, hand in hand.

I want your hand to touch my face and wipe my tears when I'm sad, or when you make me laugh so hard I cry.

I want your hand to brush my hair back from my eyes when we are out on a windy day.

I want your hand to touch me, and make me feel alive again, when I've felt so dead for so long.

I want your hand to hold me when I try something new, support my decisions, and give me advice.

I want your hand to make me know you care about me, that my life means something to you, and I am not just something so easily disposed of.

I want your hand to hold my hand, as if to say we are best friends, and you will never go away.