They’ve looked old ever since my youth
Tiny nail beds, my half moons—
This is the only childlike part of me
The rest shows my seniority
Wrinkled with spots and veins
My hands and my heart,
They are the same.
My heart is ancient too,
Eroded by the pain
That always gets through
Now, it’s paper-thin
I feel the softest wind
As it flutters the lining
I ache in pain, I plead
To understand, why…
Why you aren’t by my side?
I remember my hand holding yours,
They look the same as that day
We let go,
Together, then torn
Floating in opposite directions
Away, away, away
Until I disappeared into this,
This life, without you beside me
My face I don’t recognize, but my hands,
He didn’t change
Leaving my heart broken
As part of his plan
I was never a child
Born, old and worn
Nothing seemed foreign
Which made it boring
I never understood cartoons
I used my old hands to hide from the idiocy,
Cause none of it ever made sense to me.
See, children have soft, supple, plump hearts
Who don’t know how to hurt or where to start.
They run in circles searching for rainbow’s edge
Or splash in puddles and act like a kid
Not me, I never did.
Instead, I played with emotions like dolls
Anger meet sadness, let’s go play,
Oh and there’s happiness, by the way
Let’s play with her for a while
Until the darkness steals our smile
How can I focus on counting stars when that
Little tear threatens my paper-thin heart?
A heart made of transparency,
The pulsing consequence of sensitivity
That rips even more,
When I realize
I’m missing the hand that’s yours.
This scavenger hunt is drawing to a close,
I’m up to my last clue
Ready to give up
Not on life, but on you
My old hands are full these days
With other tiny old hands and little paper-thin hearts.
You would like them cause
They are just like me,
Here to keep me company.
I’ve felt like I’ve been waiting
Since the day I arrived
Drumming my nails
Just wasting time
Hoping, quickly it goes by
Until you come back
To take my old hand in yours
And then, my paper-thin heart will be restored.