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Those Warm Hands
His voice is rising,
Now it's getting boomy,
His eyes are scary,
Chilly.
His arm is lifting up,
Higher, higher.
The resounding slap.
I feel my heart crack
The pieces falling into my stomach.
You stupid girl!
Idiot!
You sucker!
I think I'm dying.
My chest is heaving,
But my eyes stay dry.
I walk outside,
My eyes speaking volumes,
But my lips are silent.
Do people know?
Do they even care?
They don't see my insides withering,
And my self confidence shriveling.
They don't see me when my lips are blue and chattering.
They don't feel the bleakness,
Of each day written in black.
They don't live with him.
But then it happened,
When I was at my breaking point.
I was pulled away,
And I'm gratful to those hands,
They were so warm,
And reassuring,
Caressing me,
Loving me like no one else did.
I'm far away now, but the memories are still there,
Coming to haunt me,
Trying to choke me,
Consume me,
With the very cold green eyes.
So every time I fall in the mud,
The deep pit,
The despair and self pity,
I'll remember those soft, reassuring hands
That lifted me above him,
Into the air.
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Favorite Quote:
"Hard times don't create heroes. It is during those hard times when the 'hero' within us is revealed."<br /> -Bob Riley