Hands now only feel cold,
memories locked in a steel embrace,
her eyes are always crowded nowadays,
clouded with the tears
that she often refuses to let drop,
clouded with the self loathing,
the hatred, that fills her to the brim
She curls in on herself sometimes,
his hand reaching out towards her,
a hand with the ability to erease the imprints of the mind,
a hand with the ability to destroy relationships,
a hand with the ability to fix up lives,
make them last just a little bit longer
His hand is powerful
and yet he pulls back,
can't help the pain
that is trying to claw its way out,
can't help the fact that he knows it'll win.