25 October 2012

“I never raised my hands”

Red_Fist

Hit with a wet sock; all damp insides. The silence settles on the spongy brain. Memories, like rainy days, are never far away. They say our crimes come back to haunt us; that we revisit them and they us.

“I never raised my hands…”

Liar

They use lasers and specks of dust to measure statements; to quantify, not qualify. Their veracity is a question unanswered.

“I never raised my hands…”

The entropy of those lies tear at my insides. I feel it in my bones; in my aching stones. The sins of the father are visited on his sons. He never raised his hands and neither did I. Convenient untruths fail to salve a dirty conscience.

“I never raised my hands…”

And never shall again.

.

2 comments:

  1. What a poignant sensation of deeply restricting corridors haunted by familiar ghosts

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    Replies
    1. They always tell strangers they've never raised their hands...

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