by Claire Nixon
I’ve held you all these years,
supporting you through all.
I plead for your hand just this once,
then I realise I was always alone,
suffering with my hidden pain,
struggling with my past.
These wounds won’t mend.
I’m tired of being around,
caught up in my fears each day,
time cannot rub them out.
I try to tell myself to hold on,
as I wipe away my tears,
holding out my hand,
finding emptiness.
I feel myself slipping,
losing my sanity.
Last updated May 02, 2015