hands

[forgottenmix]

that night is simply a memory,
transcending to the back of my thoughts
i'd hoped by now i'd forgot
everything he's done

his hands, cold and purple,
had grazed my skin in the most sensitive of areas
his eyes held a gentle stare
but it wasn't this way for long

soon his touch would become painful,
his gentle eyes became lustful
and he couldn't help himself
he couldn't help but keep his hands on me

he gripped my neck,
his touch sending a shiver down my spine,
not of desire, but fear
his grip became tighter with each passing moment

my breath became short
my sight became blurry
this is when he decided to remove his hands,
and he placed them on my hips

i remember him speaking then,
his words weren't articulate
but it wouldn't matter what he said,
i wouldn't have time to answer anyway

the next hour was a blur
full of screams and groans
my full body howling in pain
though he wasn't near done

his hands are the only vivid memory i can grasp
they were pale, and seemed to be just bone
he was a frail guy
his hands seemed to have a mind of their own

his intention was clear
he stole my innocence,
and there are myriad reasons i despise him
not only because of what he'd done,
but because of his unholy hands.

i hope you rot in hell, you sick, twisted bastard.