That's how I found them,
Clutching at the cords in my neck,
Pulling with every drop of strength
they had left.
My hands.
Desperate and urgently aware of some force that I had yet to acknowledge.
But they knew,
that in some wild fancy,
a power took me hostage
and forced these same hands,
pulling for freedom,
against their will.
I had spent years searching
for the cage that held me,
Thought that it had to be found in screens
or in the lives that deemed me lesser
than them,
I lost months grasping at books
and ripping words from within,
I killed so much
time...
And found no way out,
there was so escape from the moments when memories would fall out of line,
when this power came for me.
But these hands came through,
tired and outraged at the audacity
of someone other than me commanding them, they balked at the demands,
looked at me in askance,
and found me powerless.
So they moved, desperation making ruination of years of explorations.
They searched a place
I had not thought to look,
the read my body like a book
and found the villain,
perched confidently on my spine,
sending whispers up and down the line, coaxing out a voice that sounded like mine.
And these hands did something
they have not ever done before, and grabbed
a demon by the throat
ripped it from its host
and hurled it as far as it could go,
See my hands know who their master is.
They knew what her
voice really sounded like.
And they would abide by no other.
In hearing the distortion of the words
being hurled at them, they tensed,
sensed that I was in danger
and of their own volition freed me.
I know I didn't put them there,
I don't know how they got there
But they found me locked up somewhere deep and gently lifted me from my inner hell.
Yes, these hands know me well.
SK
