When You Hold My Hand

When you hold my hand, hold it like this. When you hold my hand you are not just hugging my fingers with yours. You are hugging every inch of my skin, seen or unseen, broken or healed, scarred or untouched. When you hold my hand you are not just holding on to me physically. You are holding on to all of my desires unspoken or spoken, fulfilled or unfulfilled. You are holding onto the desires that I have yet to discover and onto desires that have been long forgotten.

When you hold my hand you are not just holding my heart. You are holding on to the cathedral of my vulnerabilities. You are not just holding on to the girl that decided to give you her love, you are holding on to the woman who’s need to be free, creative and wild is never without her need to fiercely fight for what she believes in . You are holding on to the sweet. You are holding on to the woman who struggles with her immense capacity to feel love and you are holding on to the woman who has licked her wounds dry and finds healing in her own pain. You are also holding on to the bitter.

So when you are holding my hand; don’t just hold it like you are hugging my fingers with yours. Hold me like you are holding all the sweet, all the bitter. Like the universe holds the stars and like the ocean holds every single grain of sand to be found in it. Hold my hand like you are cupping all that has ever existed with your fingers and hold my hand like you are holding all that will ever be. So just remember when you hold my hand; hold it like you know all this.