When You Take My

when you take my

when you take my
hand, i am
terrified –
i hear the sound of hammer
and nails being driven
into that lingering layer of
sunset, revealing only the most
wounded and, as a rule, most
beautiful. when you
take my hand, i am
thrown –
i catch myself flinging
time aside, swimming
up for normalcy, as if it were
one last pocket of oxygen
clasped between our
palms. when you
take my hand, i am
new –
terrified, yet beautiful
thrown, but caught
wounded and normal
revealed, still breathing
.

Yi-Ching Lin

Posted over on her site Yi's Bits on "Healthy Doses"