Abuse

Sandpaper Hands
Written: February 15, 2006

Rough and ragged-

Ungentle to the touch.

Nails uneven and jagged-

Just the memory is too much.

Sandpaper hands-

Upon her skin.

Momma won’t take a stand-

But she knows he’s doing it again.

His hands were coarse and abrasive-

She’d always thought of them like momma’s emery boards.

Each day his attacks were more invasive.

But her screams, momma ignored.

Sandpaper hands-

Upon her skin.

Momma won’t take a stand-

But she knows he’s doing it again.

There came a day, when he couldn’t use those hands-

Rough and harsh as they’d been all those years.

A stroke caused him to not be able to even stand-

That is when his control disappeared.


Sandpaper hands-

Upon her skin.

No longer can he demand-

Because fear she no longer lives in.

©2006 Candice M. Martin