Hand Not Held

Sometimes I think
that I wasn’t meant for love it seems.
I lost a lot of weight and put on muscle
for my self-esteem.
I cut my hair and shaved my face,
and worked to publish my own dreams.
Yet when the nightmares come each night
I wake alone to silent screams.
I spend the seconds of the day
working towards accomplishments.
The fact my hand is never held
is cause for my astonishment.
I’m not desperate enough thankfully
to settle for a blessing less
than that of which I one time had,
with whom you ask? I bet you’ll guess.
I will not settle, yet I’ll wallow,
‘til someone worthy sees my worth.
I’ll walk alone until I find it,
cross my heart and cross the earth.