But it's been a while since you touched them, held them close to your heart;

I miss you with every beat of mine, but I wish I could forget your hands. I wish I could forget you.

I look at my hands and I wonder when I became this, when We became this: 10 minutes chats once a week, even less.

You were my best friend, and now I don't think you know me, at all.

When I was a kid I thought I would hold onto your hands forever, but now, as I look at my hands, alone, in the dark, I see they are cold, small and motherless hands.