In your hands

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23

lay me down
and open me
like your favorite book
waiting to be read

trace your fingers
over my lines
memorizing every word
every chapter
every secret
hidden between the pages

there’s something about
the way you linger
over every sentence
the way your fingers
slide between my pages
that makes my stories
come alive

but read me slowly
don’t rush through me
let your hands
find every hidden word
every place
I’ve left a little
of myself behind

23 thoughts on “In your hands”

  2. Some people want to be seen.
    This is about wanting to be read.
    Not skimmed. Not summarized. Not finished in one sitting so you can say you know the story.
    Read slowly.
    Linger where the ink is still warm.
    Find the sentences I never said out loud.
    Notice things.
    Read between the lines.
    Understand and let them know you understood.
    I love this.
    I hope you are read like this by a reader who deserves your words

    Reply

    • There’s something incredibly vulnerable about letting someone see beyond what we actually say, and even more beautiful when they take the time to look closely enough to understand.

      Maybe that’s what we’re all quietly hoping for: someone who doesn’t just read our words, but feels the heart behind them, notices the little things, and stays long enough to really know us.

      Maybe the right reader doesn’t just deserve our words; they make us feel safe enough to finally write the ones we’ve been holding back. Thank you for always leaving lovely comments. You’re just the sweetest ❤️

      Reply

  4. ‘But read me slowly, don’t rush through me’—what a soft, evocative line! The way you extend the metaphor of reading a favorite book into such an intimate connection is absolutely breathtaking. Beautiful poem!

    Reply

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