How To Hold A Trembling Man

Put your hands all over him; touch him like an angel
cradling a guilty child, kiss his chin lightly, caress his spine
to stop the cracks from showing- someone needs to know,
I will be gone and it’s not as natural as it appears. Someone needs

to know how to carry him- for when I don’t
exist. In case he lets somebody love him again.

Break down warm confessions,
like bread in milk and honey,
slowly spell out words like YOU, WHO I LOVE, YOU-

Push each letter down his throat so he understands,
so he believes. Send him postcards
and detail every thought you’ve had of him that day,
if not he’ll lose his memory.

That space in between two bodies is not
severance, it is a crescendo of every time you’ve kissed,
of each night you’ve danced around the kitchen,
Freddie singing on the counter,
of all the touches you’ve shared, of everything that lingers.

Hold him tenderly, suck in all the tragedy
and spit it somewhere else- hold him like
you both aren’t dying,
like you both aren’t petrified of the mob outside your door.
Tell him it’s not even there.

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About the author

I'm a 17 year old aspiring writer from the United Kingdom.




  • James-Daniel Marcus May 9, 2016 at 12:24 pm

    This is a beautiful poem, I really like the soft metaphors off-set against a more violent subject matter. Very well-written with a tender pace.

  • lucy-rose May 9, 2016 at 12:26 pm

    Fantastic. Very, very beautiful and it moved me deeply. Actually teared up at the ending. I’ve interpreted it as about a forbidden romance that maybe isn’t right for the time it’s occurring in but that’s just my view.