Precious steps we take to gently part our ways.
Fingers once overlapped are now lonesome with dismay.
So fragile are those words, like your walking on thin glass.
Hoping to hold on but this time will surely pass.
So many things to say but no one speaks a word.
Passing each other looks just hoping to be heard.
Many ways to go but not knowing which is right.
A hug, a kiss, to show that someday there will be light.
Just hoping that our memories will keep each other in mind.
For that is all we have now, a rememberance of some kind.
Many will pass there judgements but this is not there life.
We’re just trying to hold on without the gleaming, cold edged knife.
By: Sierra Kaylin Sullins