Small Hands

I think back to better times
I remember the things you said
Oh how I loved it

But these small hands of mine you once called cute
Are just as fragile as my heart
And both are freezing,
Falling off in numb little pieces

The long nails on my fingertips,
Their claw-like points glistening,
Turned from orange to black

But these small hands of mine you once called cute
Are now numbing
Because there’s no one to grasp them
No one to hold them like you held me
I want someone to think of them just as you did
What a silly thing to wish.