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 💜