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They say your life flashes through your eyes... I wouldn't know, but once again, I try to understand things I never will. Written after my great-great aunt died, trying to understand her, as I barely knew the woman.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst/Spiritual - Words: 64 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 07-28-11 - id: 2937524
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The hands holding mine
Were the last I would touch
And the only ones I needed to.
I still feel the squeeze on mine
From the last moment,
Still smell their breath.
I still remember….
When I first held these hands,
When they were young,
When I was young.
Tears were on my bedside,
And I begged them not to cry.
Not for me.
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