HANDS

I remembered his hands just now.
I don’t know why.
Out of nowhere,
ambushing me,
suddenly,
they were just there –
before me –
as real as if I could have reached out and touched them.
But of course, I would not have.
I tried to keep as far away from those hands as possible.

I saw them with the veins
crawling across the backs like blue worms
and that one thumb that had been injured
and was permanently deformed
that looked like a claw to me.
Those hands –
that brought my childhood to an end
that caused hurts that I still feel,
a lifetime later.

As soon as I saw those hands,
my breathing stopped,
my heart started racing,
I could see nothing else,
my stomach knotted up and flipped over.
Time stood frozen -
back years ago -
and I was trapped in a 5-year-old body
with those strange hands filling my vision,
blocking everything else out,
holding me hostage to his anger and sickness.

And now my hands are shaking
and my pulse is pounding so hard
that I can’t believe that others can’t hear it.
I am older now by decades than he was
when I first saw those hands.
But they still have the power
to terrify and paralyze me.
And I am still held prisoner
by those hands.

lee

Powerful writing, Lee. I hope it helped to get it out this way. I can completely identify with the hands/touch thing coming back. It's so damn hard to get past it when it happens.

Keep writing, man. It's excellent... and very poignant.

thanks, Matthew.

my wife says i need to acknowledge and believe and express appreciation when other people affirm me. instead of just blowing it off and assuming they are just saying it or whatever.

so, thank you - and i'm both sorry you could identify and glad you found it meaningful.

lee