my hands would like to thank your hands
for the time we were drunk out of our minds
but your hands knew enough
to hold, not grab
to hold, not push
to hold,
and hold on.

my hands would like to thank your hands
for being constants, not variables.
for having a thermostat so perfect,
holding hands is like entering
a fire-warmed cabin
after a snowstorm -
and you’re the only light around for miles.

but most importantly,
my hands
would like to thank your hands
for keeping other things from my hands;
things that shouldn’t be found in hands,
like the last cigarette
or a sharp pointy object -

and the last time
it was desperation that
got the better of me;

and not your hands.

He was the one person
who held storms in his fingertips,
and still touched you with the softness
of rain in springtime.

I kiss you with more guilt
than I thought
I was capable of.

You kiss me with more forgiveness
than I thought
I was capable of.

2010
learned to swim in an ocean filled with
jellyfish that didn’t sting,
seashells,
and more hands than i needed to hold
in a party that of more than four,
our brand new family strung together with salt water.
this time, everything is for the last time.

2011
this
is the
first ever time
my decisions are the
children of orphaned thoughts.
they swing across canyons of hope
attached to no rope.
reality is a maze with no roadmap.

2012
there is so much lesser now, than there used to be,
there is also so much more now, than there used to be.
somewhere nestled inbetween is satisfaction.

2013
today, my heart joined the gym.
the mission? twenty seconds of bravery.

2014
mission accomplished.
twenty minutes of bravery,
here i come.

2015
there was a time before.
there will be a time after.
from today, there is no going back.

2016
the trek has led to
an obstacle course.
let the games begin.