Someone Else’s Hands

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Photo Credit: Ext-Seeno at deviantart.com

I wonder why it’s you
instead of someone else,
why I’ve latched on
to us like I have.
It’s like they say,
those mysterious knowers
of the universe.
Those pivotal moments
in our lives
shape who we become.
I’ve had so many,
but only one
where love is concerned,
at least romantic love,
and it has molded
how I see.

Broken as I was,
you wanted me anyway,
took care of me anyway,
and that’s the biggest problem–
no one else ever has.
I’ve always been
the strong one,
the stable in unstable lands.
I’m the fixer,
the healer,
the magical knower
that everyone runs to,
and it’s exhausting.

Only once
have I ever relinquished.

You took my hands
and made me let go,
made me release all
that I couldn’t control,
and you controlled it for me.
You covered me,
held me,
did it all so I didn’t have to.

Isn’t it sad
that after all these years
of fighting to take care of ourselves,
all I want is for you to do it for me?

I’m tired and I need to let go,
but I have no one to pick up those pieces.

~Patience

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