Helping Hand

My fingertips were numb from the wind

My skin scratched nearly raw

Blind of touch, of warmth, of feel

Absorbed completely in my flaws

 

My palms lost sight of what to grab

My wrists unable to stretch

Incapable of losing the cold grief I held

Forgetting happiness and all the rest

 

A hint of heat, not far from me

Too close it should have burned

I didn't reach, I should have though

I guess that's my lesson learned

 

A little flame taunted my desire

Too stubborn to let me wave goodbye

It lured me in, grabbed my hands

And taught them to hold on for dear life

 

He unintentionally kept them safe

Protected them from the harmful breeze

Because could not get gloves for my hands

He made sure they didn't freeze

 

He put his own warmth at risk

What if the flame were to blow away?

I guess we'd be all we'd have left

And the best part of that is...

 

That would still be just okay

 

My fingertips were numb from the wind

My skin was scratched nearly raw

But now I feel the warmth of love

And his flamw has left me in awe

This poem is about: 
Me

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