stay

You were small

all soft smiles and spots of freckles adorning pink cheeks

chipped purple nails

things I’ve written about hundreds of times since

things that still make me wince

you were daisies

and ink stains

pages turning frantically to block out the noise

ears pressed against floorboards to make peace with the noise

cobwebs dusting the toys

and fingers carefully crafting the words

broken and dented 

there were things I regretted then
that I do not now

I do not judge my past self

for the knowledge I did not yet have

Hands still scare you

clenched into fists

fingertips in your palms

that don’t quite fit 

scratches bleeding out

and crippling self-doubt
I hear the voices shout

and watch you flinch

frail as a finch


I am still flinching

wishing for an easier ending

even when the hands are warm

they still feel cold

repeated acts of reassurance

can sometimes get old

I was once so brave, so bold

now I am not sure
which hands are there for me to hold

His are not just warm
they set my skin alight
like I’ve been grazed with a lighter

and when I look for my past self

it is in him that I find her 

when the panic is consuming

when creativity stops blooming
and the voices are fuming
the blood floods my head

and all I can hear is existential dread

His hands
make me calm
he lays me down
in his lap

and tells me to breathe

in this darkness
his face is all I can see

I become more
than debris lost at sea
nobody is telling me who to be

He lays me down

and I can’t keep entertaining the frown

Every voice, every sneer

can come nowhere near

when I am holding his hand

I think I can finally understand

the calm

A kiss on my palm

I would endure the panic

the strain
the excruciating pain

if It meant

You would stay.

22:19pm - 07/09/25.