Monday, September 21, 2015

The Anneslee Poems: Hand Prints

You slip your hand from mine,
leaving your hand print
behind
seared into my skin.

I never want to wash
where we touched
again –

just walk around,
lost in love
and the feeling
of where you have been
on me.

You slip your hand from my face,
leaving your hand print
of hate
burning my skin.

I cannot wash you away,
the pain sticks to my
skin –

no matter how hard I scrub
your wound lingers,
the stain imprinted
with your five fingers
I cannot get rid of.

The memory of fear
you leave on me
scars my heart
like botched surgery.

It ruins the love
that lived on my skin;
how changed I am
one hand print
to the next.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Deficient

The whitecoats say
I am deficient
in sunshine
and iron,
the things
that brighten
and strengthen
from within.

If they only knew
all the ways
I am deficient.

My heart
has withered
into a raisin
in my chest.

There is no love,
no happiness,
no abstract feeling
here.

Just a sad memory
of what was.