With Delicate Mad Hands
With delicate mad hands
The old man tries the knob.
She forgot to lock the door!
For which she will ever blame herself.
The people who could stop this are out shopping
Ignorant, or ignoring.
The dirt from his hands clings to her years later.
Will you stop touching me?
Why are you doing this?
Why do I feel sand clinging to me everywhere?
She throws her weight against him
In desperate effort pushing him out the door.
Let it stay closed forever
Weld it shut!
It is the only thing she can trust to keep him away.
With delicate mad hands she types
A lifetime of stories no one will ever see
All of them the same.
A girl behind a locked door
Protecting herself from both harm and help
And when her heart begins to suffocate
Inside that closed room
She will not have the strength to reach the door.
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