Creator of my own destruction

Holding your hand in mine was like placing my own destruction between your fingers. 

With your hand in mine I wondered if you could feel my flickering pulse screaming that I'm human.

My destruction was at your fingertips, as soon as you learned through my loose grip and my slightly damp hands that I was flesh and blood.

My calm exterior was shattered,

My concrete walls destroyed,

Because as you held my hand you learned I wasn't the untouchable girl I pretended to be.

I am human.

I have a heart that beats unsteadily in my chest,

I have blood that rushes to my cheeks,

I am breakable.

You can tear me apart,

And I'm begging you not to.

Because holding your hand feels like all I've ever lost coming back to me,

But it also seems like all I ever had slipping through my fingers;

Perhaps to be held by you or lost forever.

I placed my own destruction between your fingers,

A sensitive time grenade,

Ringing out in slow rhythmic ticks how long we could possibly last.

If you pull your fingers from mine, you'll be pulling the clip from the grenade.

Our time will be over with one big explosion and everything will shatter and collapse and fall apart.

And you'll see as the dust settles how human I can be,

You'll see how easy it is to destroy me.