His hand grasping mine, My hand gripping his, While we walk into the coffee shop, For our very first date.

My hands tangled in his hair, His hands clenching my bum, as our lips unite as if old chums.

I regret the nights escapades as he holds my hair back and he rubs my back, and he silently chuckles: “ I yold you not to drink that!”

His hands hold a glimmering ring And my hands move about, Whilst I Shout “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

My hands grip in his, and his hands grasp mine as we say our vows , “Forever be mine?”

His hands shaking, as he paces here to there My hands holding a test, One line or two?

my hands on my stomach, and his rub my shoulders.

His hands up in excitement and mine cradling our new addition a baby girl, To love forever.

My hands hold his in a tight loving hug and his hold an acceptance letter Sent from above

His hands hold a gun on land far away, While he dreams of coming home someday. Mine hold a baby who barely knows her father Saying mama,mama, but never papa.

My hands hold a flag, and his hands are in heaven, waving down to us, Signing that, it will be ok.

…

🫀

Everyone underestimates The importance of hands

Helping hands will start You have no idea

A home cooked meal A clean space

These hands make a house A home

There are the hands That dance with me in the rain

Hands that throw down spades On family game night

Lastly the hands That comfort in hard times

The ones that feed me soup When I can hardly sit

They hold me When I shake from crying

Never underestimate The importance of hands

( 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.

Your hands Twisting silver rings off your fingers Fidgeting, don’t want them to see I reach over and take one in mine Remind you I am here Cause I can tell you’re uncomfortable

Your hands Reaching out for mine At a random time in public Walking around the mall Like you want to be close to me Don’t worry, I’m not complaining

Your hands Tangled in my hair Soothing in and out of dirty blonde locks You know it makes me sleepy Twirling strands and combing through

Your hands Tapping on the counter Fingernails rapping Tap-tap-tapping You stim a lot when you’re thinking Later you’ll be embarrassed But I think it’s cute Just another thing I love about you

Boy, you might not understand But there’s something so special to me about your hands

His hands, they hold on tight to mine, when he’s leading me around, They lift me off the transit, and put me gently back on the ground.

His hands, they cook my breakfast at the start of every day, They choose my outfits carefully, and he has great taste, they say.

His hands, they open doors for me when we go out somewhere, Sometimes they even help me do my make up and straighten my hair.

His hands, they rock me to sleep when I wake up drenched in sweat and tears, They hold me close while he kisses me and takes away my fears.

His hands, they are my guiding light, in a world so dull and dark, His fingers hold the needle and thread that stitch my broken heart.

His hands, they never falter, so full of warmth and love, In his hands, I find my purpose, a blessing from above.

His hands, the architects, rebuilding me when I fall apart, In his arms, I find my sight, he holds the compass of my heart.

His hands, the healers' touch, in a world that's scarred by pain, With him, I soar beyond my bounds, he's the wings I've finally gained.

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 💜

We walked. Hand in hand Hearts beating together:

Ba dum Ba dum Ba dum

We walked. Our hearts beating Quicker, swelling with joy

Ba dum Ba dum Ba dum

We walked. Our feet falling together Matching our hearts

Left right Left right Left right

We walked, You squeeze my hand softly I can feel your happy heart too

Left right Left right Left right

We walked, Birds singing around us Like a fairy tale

Tweet twitter Tweet twitter Tweet twitter

We walked, Quietly listening to nature And enjoying the moment together

Tweet twitter Tweet twitter Tweet twitter

We walked, Together with big hearts Close to each other

Ba dum Left right Tweet twitter

Taking in each others presence And loving without a word, We walked

Every time your hand holds mine, It mends the storm inside my mind. Every touch upon my cheek, It'd make me go down and probably weak.

Every time you caress my hair, It felt soft and gentle like a warm breeze of Air. Every touch upon my lips, Gave me goosebumps and a hopeful bliss.

Every time you tenderly stroked my hips, It felt like the world around me slipped. Every touch upon my neck, Is like a chain that threatens to break.

Every time you told me your love, It felt like the darkness came from above. Every touch upon my spine, Would twist my bones into one thin line.

Every time you would say goodbye, I hoped for you to not die from inside. Every touch upon my heart, Made me feel hollow and falling apart.

I hope you are happy, For in the end it’s not me.

Live your life peacefully, For I’d fight to be free.

I yearn to feel his hands upon my skin, A touch that stirs a fire deep within. His gentle caress, a comforting embrace, A refuge where I find solace and grace.

In his hands, I feel a sense of security, A sanctuary where I can truly be me. With every touch, I know I am safe, Wrapped in his arms, love's sweetest embrace.

His hands speak a language of love unspoken, Expressing affection that can never be broken. They hold me tight, dispelling all my fears, Guiding me through life's uncertain frontiers.

I crave the warmth of his touch each day, A connection that words can never convey. For in his hands, I find love's sweetest art, A bond that forever resides in my heart.

Heart made of glass Careful, watch your step Hallowed out See through Can't imagine what it goes through Clouded mind Jaded eyes Skinny lovers White lies Hands tied Behind your back Careful lover, watch your step