Uncontrolled Hands

I remember your cold unwanted grasp.

I remember the way your hands felt like an unbreakable clasp.

I was only a child, not much younger than yourself.

You forced me to dig deep and put those memories on a shelf.

Your evil touch caressed my body, my face.

To survive I had to mentally go to a different place.

I was just a child, just eight.

I hate that I met you, I hate that that was my fate!

You stole from me!

My peace, my innocence, my memory – all tax free.

You got away unscathed.

I remain in shambles and afraid.

Most of our encounters mentally blocked, to traumatic for my brain to let me remember.

What I do remember, burns in my memory like a hot ember.

Slowly but painfully burning a hole in my head.

But I simply must try to forget and go to bed.

I survive.

I had no choice, but to pretend to be alive.

Everyday a struggle because of your lack of control.

Because of you I’ll never be quite whole.

Share: