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  • Writer's pictureKenzie Pajinag

Hands that couldn’t be held

I remember us holding hands while we crossed the road,

and how your embrace made me glow.

But night after night,

we started to crumble

and the gentle path,

became rough and tumbled.

Our years sank as we grew older.

Growing apart and not going much further.

We haven’t talked or seen each other in a while,

I guess our path separated with the stone,

and you fell in the cracks

that couldn’t hold you much longer

I finally opened my eyes

and let go of the hand that was pulling me back.

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