Her hands wore two rings
And had seldom painted nails
Skin that cracked in winter
With lines that told the tales

Her hands wrote poetry and
Took beautiful photographs
Wrote letters to her friends
And covered all her laughs

Her hands fixed her hair 
Washed dishes, did chores
They gave what they could
And sometimes even more

Her hands drew in others
Tight for a much needed hug
Held the hands of a child
Always showed her love

Her hands did homework
They took notes in class
Worked Calculus problems
And waved as friends passed

Her hands held the knife
Ran it across her skin
Wiped the blood as it dripped
Over and over again

Her hands covered wounds
Did their best to hide the pain
They constantly reminded her
And told her she’s insane

Her hands wrote the hurt
Her hands left the scars
Her hands always told her
“This is what you are.”

12-10-12 12:18am