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The Benning Mess - Without Saying That of Course
May 13, 2019
His grip on my hand,
steady, strong, sure.
Keeping me,
tethered to the ground.
Keeping me
breathing, waiting,
believing.
That maybe,
just maybe this thing,
this thing called us,
us and we and together,
maybe we have forever.
Maybe,
instead of me, myself , and I,
I try to pursue
a reality of together,
until we die.
Maybe,
I let go and let him,
take the wheel.
His hands on my hands,
show his hands on my heart.
And I would be dumb to part,
with a love like ours.
But maybe,
just maybe,
his grip on my hand,
caused a break in my heart.
© Alexa T., Pompton Plains, NJ
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So during a trip I was on, my best friend and I had a little bit of an oof and that's putting things lightly. Thankfully we worked everything out and things are better now than ever. This was one of the pieces I worte following that week.