15

I sometimes think about the day,
Where you let me hold your hand,
"Anchoring",
What a lil shit,
But that was the only comfort I could give.
And the day you reached out for mine,
Held it,
And kissed it,
So tenderly,
Like you were unsure.
We weren't each other's,
Yet we held hands.
And I wonder,
Was there,
If at all,
A point,
Where you wanted it to last,
Where even just a little,
You had felt,
Like I did?