Trigger warning for references to assault
Hands
age spotted
work roughened
grease still under the finger nails
No matter how far I come, I can't forget the hands
soft, delicate fingers
stubborn in their force
perfect French nails
I look at my own hands, swollen yet again as my joints ache from the simple act of typing.
demanding
insistent
taking what was mine
Hands hurt. They grab and thrust and pinch and slap. Hands leave bruises in tender young flesh.
Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker @ Five Minute Friday where we write unscripted, unedited for 5 minutes and link up.
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