Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Small Hands
I remember your skin, I do.
The way your fingers pressed against mine.
Very very very softly.
Almost as if you weren't pressing at all.
Almost as if you were dead.
The screams followed me
Down the hall
They lifted me on to a trolley
And I was silent
I did not complain.
Even though I feared death
Even though I was dead.
Their cries came before their happiness
My sadness caused no screams.
I did not make a sound.
I did not make a sound.
The way your fingers pressed against mine.
Very very very softly.
Almost as if you weren't pressing at all.
Almost as if you were dead.
The screams followed me
Down the hall
They lifted me on to a trolley
And I was silent
I did not complain.
Even though I feared death
Even though I was dead.
Their cries came before their happiness
My sadness caused no screams.
I did not make a sound.
I did not make a sound.
