Empty Hands

all of my emotions

pour out of my hands

out of my heart

and transform themselves into

these

tiny words

these

fragile inadequacies

that throb painfully

and

spill their inky blood all over this page

staining it

with every word that was never whispered

and every touch that was never shared

and you are my phantom limb

the touch of your hands

that i never felt

is what is burning my skin now

and i scrub at your stains

with harsh bleach

but you are in my every pore

soaked through

and

permanent

and i can't stop touching your hands

that won't touch me back

and i am losing you.

i am dripping inky blood

and memories

through the cracks between my fingers

and the harder i try

to hold on

the more i realize

with a horrifyingly raw honesty-with-myself

that there is nothing

for my aching fingers

to hold onto

anymore.

Explained here