Touch Me With Gentle Hands

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Abstract

become brittle and there is a small chance I will shatter like a mirror that falls from its hanger and becomes shards of hope lost on the ground as you step over them, tiptoeing to safety and avoiding the sharp edges of my soul</p><p id="2c96">I can’t be pushed if I don’t want to be moved and I can’t be touched if I’m invisible but for some reason, you can see me and even though there is resistance between us at some point, I may reach out my hand if only to feel the warmth of your heart because you know mine is frozen</p><p id="e422">It’s not about how much you touch me, but about how you touch me With gentle hands, tenderized from years of caring and staring into the sun while I was in the dark hopeless as the needle in the haystack but you have a sixth sense and a magnifying glass and that’s how you found me at the bottom of thi

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s pile of gloom Untouchable, or at least that’s what I thought</p><p id="df87">Just be gentle with my bones and resuscitate my heart For it’s your gentle hands that will bring me back to life</p><p id="2022">© <a href="undefined">Jonathan Greene</a> 2020</p><p id="92a9">If you liked this, you might like this as well:</p><div id="08fb" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/crack-me-open-63e55373ac1"> <div> <div> <h2>Crack Me Open</h2> <div><h3>A Poem</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*MMeZLx6SiSvYMiRp)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

A Poem

I don’t really want you to touch me with all the nonsense in the world I just feel like it’s safer for me to stop and stand behind this forcefield and protect myself from touch But you seem so affectionately adamant that it will be good for me because I am so cold and so broken and you are warmth and a cast to heal me in this darkest night

Touch me with gentle hands because over time I’ve become brittle and there is a small chance I will shatter like a mirror that falls from its hanger and becomes shards of hope lost on the ground as you step over them, tiptoeing to safety and avoiding the sharp edges of my soul

I can’t be pushed if I don’t want to be moved and I can’t be touched if I’m invisible but for some reason, you can see me and even though there is resistance between us at some point, I may reach out my hand if only to feel the warmth of your heart because you know mine is frozen

It’s not about how much you touch me, but about how you touch me With gentle hands, tenderized from years of caring and staring into the sun while I was in the dark hopeless as the needle in the haystack but you have a sixth sense and a magnifying glass and that’s how you found me at the bottom of this pile of gloom Untouchable, or at least that’s what I thought

Just be gentle with my bones and resuscitate my heart For it’s your gentle hands that will bring me back to life

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