Soft.

When you’d hold my hand at some days

I would feel my heart flutter in joy

Your soft hands holding mine

And I have never felt so happy

It’s been years since you left me

And I know you don’t care about me anymore

But I like to think you still do sometimes

I always find myself tracing the outlines of the palms on my hand

Trying to recall the feeling of your hand against mine

I know I’m no better than anyone or you

But I want to feel soft once more

The days when we held each other

They may not be precious or meaningful to you

But to me, my heart, they were so real.

And that’s the sad part, isn’t it?

I never stood a chance with you.

But I did. Once.