They say your hands were made to hold another.
No matter how big or small,
Wide or thin,
Your fingers will interlock,
Perfectly with another.
But the hardest part in all of this,
Is to find the one it was supposed to be,
The one that was fine with everything else,
That came along with my hand:
The insecure thoughts,
The overthinking,
Hell, even the messy parts that I can’t quite tidy up.
The quiet moments, the loud ones,
The stormy days, the sunny skies,
The moments when my mind wanders,
And when my heart hesitates.
But if you could be the one,
You’d see past the fear and the flaws,
Grasp my hand with no hesitation,
And never let go, not for a second.
So here’s to hoping,
That somewhere, somehow,
There’s a hand that fits perfectly,
Not just with my fingers,
But with the way my heart beats.
Author’s Note:
This piece was inspired past midnight while I was just lying in bed where thoughts kept me awake. This poem is about the quiet hope to find someone who sees and accepts every part of you, even the messy ones. I wanted to capture the idea that love isn’t just about physical closeness, but about emotional safety and understanding. “Interwoven” is my way of expressing that kind of connection we all crave but are sometimes afraid to ask for.
Daniel Chiu | 15 | New Jersey, USA | @aenyu_dc on Instagram
