Writing Prompt

POEM STARTER

Write a poem about the importance of hands in a relationship.

Think about the different types of relationship you could relate this to.

Writings

hands of pain

( the prompt but with a darker twist, because i’m a sucker for pain. / tw: sa )

in the heart of our love’s dying embers, where the moonlight whispers secrets only the broken-hearted comprehend, there lingered a shadow most ghastly—a reminder of the darkness that lurked behind those hands, once tender now turned tormentor. we were both so young, drenched in the fever of a passion that sang in hues of forbidden maroon, yet not even the brightest stars could dispel the hideous chasm that lay between our flesh and soul.

his hands—oh, those hands, like coiled serpents cloaked in the velvet of deceitful affection—moved with an arrogance that belied their true nature. what once seemed a caress now became a vice, a harrowing touch that left scars no amount of time could ever erase. underneath the guise of a lover’s embrace, i discovered the dread truth that the flesh was not always a sanctuary but a prison of cruel, unending pain.

each press, each grip, was a relentless symphony of agony, conducted by the conductor of our shared nightmare. those hands, once promising warmth, now sought to imprison my spirit with a grasp that was nothing short of monstrous. the warmth of their touch, now suffused with a chilling undertone of malevolence, was a cruel parody of affection.

in the cruel theater of our lives, where every gesture was scrutinized, these hands became the symbols of torment, the very essence of betrayal hidden beneath a veneer of love. i became an unwilling audience to a performance so gruesome, it was impossible to avert my gaze from the grotesque tableau of my despair.

the hands that once promised solace now embody the purest, most harrowing form of betrayal. and so, in the quiet moments when the world retreats, i am left to grapple with the dismal reality that love can sometimes be a cage with no key, a tale of horror cloaked in the semblance of tenderness.

By The Willow Tree🏞️❄️

Your hands Shaking madly as you Look me in the eye For the first time

My hands Itching for a man’s touch Aching for more Than just painted nails and bracelets As I notice you staring

Our hands Both fidgeting As the professor rambles on Wishing for something better to do

Your hands Holding the pencil perfectly As you toss your shaggy hair back And continue to make beautiful art

My hands Inching closer to yours Because he paired us up for a project About who knows what

Our hands Straining to hold on To the now heavy weighted pencil As we scribble down our research

Your hands Smoothing out when you Hear my hysterical laugh At the awesome joke you just made

My hands Smoothing out my already straightened hair As I stare at my reflection And wish you were at my door

But weeks later, Your hands Are pulling me in a tight hug On April 14th, the day I walked in With blotchy eyes and a drenched face

Because my mama’s hands Would never get to touch Or love my Daddy’s skin again And the last time they did Was before I could even remember

My hands Folded on my lap as I Drive to my Dad’s new apartment A new place I’ve never been And I can imagine you, home safely in your bed

Our hands Drift apart as my lips get dry As the stories go untold And my heart refuses to unfold

Your hands Typing on your phone Asking if we can talk And clutching your phone as The three little dots disappear

My hands Reaching for yours when I finally can tell you “I love you… But I can’t love right now…” “My drunken Daddy has taken full custody.” “So I haven’t seen my dear mother in weeks.”

Our hands Slowly entwining as you ask “Is that really true?” “Do you love me?”

Your hands Shivering as I say “Yes, but I’m not ready.” “I’m so sorry.”

My hands Pulling away from his As you says “Please, don’t.” “It’s hard but it’ll get better.” “Please meet me in the park tonight.”

Your hands Getting cold as the moon shines down And you sit by the little willow tree Praying, wishing, hoping for my shadow To appear

My hands Buried under my blankets Listening to my Dad get drunk with friends Down in the kitchen That I don’t belong in

Our hands Getting frozen in the icy cold Past that now will haunt me Forever as I wake up each day Remembering how I left you there

By the willow tree All alone in the cold

Your hands Never to be touched again by mine My hands Aching from the scar that will always bleed Our hands Just another tragedy That chokes me in the middle of the night

Because I was bleeding myself And you wanted me To be strong but I couldn’t bare So I left you By the willow tree All alone in the cold

By the willow tree All alone in the cold 🏞️❄️

Sincerely, Caralia🫶🏼

My word count on this was 515… that’s a new record! I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing haha! But… I mean this prompt has been sitting in my drafts since forever, and while writing this, I was thinking of my grandma who had to leave her mom at nine due to a divorce. So that’s kind of where I got the idea I guess. I can’t imagine getting torn away from my home like that. Especially at nine! So I decided to write about it, to help get the story out there! Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜💜💜

This is pretty random, but today I had the best French toast ever!! It tasted like heaven!! French toast now has my heart đź’ś