Empty Handed

Someone like you.
Never seems to want to tell me.

You always tend to stare,
At my hands that remain a constant bare.
I told myself that I was a shoulder to lean on,
For you in order to wipe your eyes clean.

Lately I have to realize a true reality,
That I will never understand your mentality.
I thought I always understood what you felt,
But you always seem to melt,
In ways that I never dealt.

Someone like you.
Never seems to want to tell me.

I sometimes would cry,
Only because I never wanted us to say a goodbye.
Because I place all my trust,
That only remains in your hands as dust.

Someone like you.
Never seems to want to tell me.

Lately I wanted to ask of you,
About the picture you drew.
Which upon my hands your finger would trace,
The empty hands that would say with such grace.

I never knew what your hints mean,
Or what the subtle orders you would declare as queen.
I don’t think you realize your actions,
Because your mind is buzzing around with so many distractions.

Someone like you.
Never seems to want to tell me.

Why you cry during your sleep,
Or how your heart tends to weep.
At my hands that remain a constant bare,
You always tend to stare,
Would you pour yourself to me then just plain air?

Someone like you.
Never seems to want to tell me.

Do I just deserve just air for my empty hands?