Gone with the Wind

I want to hold your hand.

 

I know it’s stupid,

and completely juvenile,

and you are anything but.

But

I want to hold your hand.

 

I know it’s simple,

and totally cliche,

and I am all of these and more.

But

More than anything,

I want to hold your hand.

 

Because all I’m thinking of

is the way you looked me in the eyes,

and held both my hands,

and for the first time,

someone was colder than me.

 

And how easy it was,

and how frightening,

but I only realized that fact when

you were no longer with me.

 

And I’m sitting here typing this,

like it’s some sort of poetry,

even though it’s anything but.

 

And you are simply marvelous,

fantastic,

all of these and more.

 

But,

I’m telling you,

that even though I’m certain of very little,

I know without an ounce of doubt that

in this very moment,

and even after,

I want to hold your hand.

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