Palm open
Hanging lonely
At my side

Empty
Longing to entwine with

Fingers
Constant and consoling
Each joint I know by heart

Like each vein in your arm
Or the gentle curve of your back
Your firm shoulders and neck

Your chin begs to rest between
My cheek, my shoulder

I can trace
The lines of your face
As I stare into the dark of night

Because your eyes are
A memory
Burned into my mind

And your lips are
Etched
Forever in an image meeting mine

The images are starting to fade
I can’t feel your pulse
Time has turned my
Fingers cold

Palm open
Hanging lonely
At my side

Return to me
Hold my hand
One more time
I won’t let go

Tuck your locks
Of brown and blond
Under my chin

Never lift them again

Forever create
Memories
For me to feed off
In the stillness of night

Palm open

written in 1999

Well, this is the 25th of 30 days I’m sharing one of my poems in support of National Poetry Month. How old is this one? Alright, I’ll do the math for you. I wrote this when I was a sophomore in high school. Yes, I had a lot of emotions, and they were deep… and I was dramatic. In essence, I was always supposed to be a writer. I wrote dozens of poems about the same heartbreak, likely because it was my first. The pain gave me something to write about, and so it was sophomore year I declared the pen my best friend.