Wicked Hands

These hands. My hands. Wicked, wicked hands. My hands. The devil's hands. Evil, evil hands. Skin-on-skin contact Is supposed to be intimate, Not murder.

These hands.

My hands.

Wicked, wicked hands.

My hands.

The devil's hands.

Evil, evil hands.

With just one touch

Of a naked finger

Or a bare palm

The breath leaves your lungs.

The lights leaves your eyes.

Your body no longer exits.

These hands have killed

So many loved ones,

What's on more?

You said you'd accept me

For whatever secret

I was hiding.

But you laughed

When I told you

I was a murderer.

Is that not what I am?

The owner of these hands

That takes lives so casually?

If these hands are murderers,

Does that not make the owner

A murderer as well?

I killed my mother.

I was just a baby.

A newborn, actually.

I killed my father.

I wasn't much older.

Only two weeks.

I never had any siblings.

So I never got the chance

To murder one of them.

But I bet if I did,

They would've died

Exactly like Mom and Dad.

Living on the streets

And running away

Had seemed like the only option.

I never could go to school.

I never could make friends.

I never could live a normal life.

But you showed me different,

Just another homeless boy

Living off what he could find.

You made me believe

There was a chance

I could be normal.

You made me want to try.

You made me open my heart

And look where that got you.

Dead.

Dust in the wind.

Nothing but a memory.

You wanted to hold my hand.

My bare hand.

You wouldn't take no for an answer.

Skin-on-skin contact

Is supposed to be intimate,

Not murder.

I watched as your skin melted away.

I watched as your muscles dried up.

I watched as your bones became dust.

I waited for the tears to come,

But they never did.

I ran out years ago.

It was foolish of me to believe

That I could be normal.

Not with these hands of mine.

These hands,

These devilish hands,

These wicked, wicked hands.

Reviews

[MoriartyMesa]

So much direction with this I have to ask what the major inspiration of the piece?

[MakeshiftRose]

Pretty much it's about a girl's thoughts after she accidentally kills her boyfriend when she held his hand. Like a... poison kind of thing. I thought it was pretty good for being written at two in the morning, even though it could use some work. I just didn't want to mess with it because I was afraid I'd mess it up and forget where I was originally going with it.