You can tell when some people are either lying or nervous because they give off a sign; for some it may be a nervous giggle or laugh, for another it might be a twitching eye; but for me, it's my hands. I may pretend to be acting all calm and collected, but in fact, my hands would be all over the place; I would start to talk with the use of exaggerated hand gestures, flailing them around. Lately, I'd been trying my best to put some distance between me and Glasses; but, me being the idiot that I am, I decided to see him the past week. All throughout the time we were together, I tried my best to seem nonchalant, poised, and aloof about him; but my hands were telling another story.
For the past week, I had been doing all the things to keep him off my mind and when I thought I'd be alright seeing him again I found out how wrong I really was. My hands they start shaking with anticipation again and they don't seem to understand. Whatever peace of mind I had about him was shattered. My hands just don't seem to grasp the idea that I'd never be able to run my fingers through his hair; I'd never be able to trace the contours of his face with the tips of my fingertips; I'd never be able to cup his chin and bring his face close to mine for a kiss; I'd never be able to wipe away those tears from his face; I'd never get the chance to run my fingers up and down his back, feeling the thrill of knowing how close he is to me; and I'd never get to know what it must feel like to hold him tightly in my embrace.
My hands long to reach out to his; quietly trying to break the shield I had built around myself for so long. For you see, my hands only agree to hold his and they can't seem to let me go... But my hands will never get to hold his the way they want to. We touched, just once when he banged his hand, and once our skin met he pulled away as though he was burnt.
My hands wave to him goodbye, watching him embrace another; all the while knowing, they'll never get to touch him like his lover can.
My hands...
They just won't let me go....
My hands just don't seem to understand...
My hand only agrees to hold his hand...
For the past week, I had been doing all the things to keep him off my mind and when I thought I'd be alright seeing him again I found out how wrong I really was. My hands they start shaking with anticipation again and they don't seem to understand. Whatever peace of mind I had about him was shattered. My hands just don't seem to grasp the idea that I'd never be able to run my fingers through his hair; I'd never be able to trace the contours of his face with the tips of my fingertips; I'd never be able to cup his chin and bring his face close to mine for a kiss; I'd never be able to wipe away those tears from his face; I'd never get the chance to run my fingers up and down his back, feeling the thrill of knowing how close he is to me; and I'd never get to know what it must feel like to hold him tightly in my embrace.
My hands long to reach out to his; quietly trying to break the shield I had built around myself for so long. For you see, my hands only agree to hold his and they can't seem to let me go... But my hands will never get to hold his the way they want to. We touched, just once when he banged his hand, and once our skin met he pulled away as though he was burnt.
My hands wave to him goodbye, watching him embrace another; all the while knowing, they'll never get to touch him like his lover can.
My hands...
They just won't let me go....
My hands just don't seem to understand...
My hand only agrees to hold his hand...
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