Red Hand

This poem has been living in a works-in-progress folder on my computer for quite a while because I wanted to wait until I no longer felt the way it described before I posted it. Sometimes when you leave a place, it takes a long time and a lot of work before the place leaves you.

 

Red Hand

you did this to me and i
couldn’t even hurt you back
all i could do was leave

i don’t know why it took
more than a decade to understand
you didn’t take anything from me
but instead shaped a part of myself
that i still can’t look in the eye

your name is the hollow vibration
of a bomb detonating

they say
it’s not like that now
it doesn’t matter
it was like that then

and i’m like this now

 


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