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The ground is unsteady, shifting beneath me,

a bridge of fog, a road of cracks,

every step, an echo of uncertainty,

every shadow whispering I walk along.

Who will hold my hand?

The sky splits open, wild and breathless,

the world a blur of stinging colour,

I am fire and thunder, untamed, unravelling,

too fast, too high, too much.

Who will hold my hand?

Silence.

The kind that presses, flattens, swallows,

a hollowing out, a sinking breath,

laughter turned to dust on my tongue.

Will you hold my hand?

I have sworn I was invincible at dawn,

by dusk, wished I could disappear,

one moment a crown, gold and gleaming,

the next a ghost, weightless and fading.

Will you hold my hand?

And yet –

Here you are, steady as the tide,

fingers curling ‘round mine, a lifeline,

you do not flinch at the fire or the quiet,

you do not fear the rise, the fall.

Will you hold my hand?

My mind racing, you do not chase,

my mind drowning, you do not turn away,

when I scream I’m too much to bear,

you remind me I am enough.

Will you hold my hand?

With breath caught in my throat, I realise,

love won’t fix, nor save, nor silence,

love stands, unwavering,

reaching out, despite the storms.

You hold my hand.

Suddenly, I am not afraid.

Suddenly, I am not alone.

Because you hold my hand.