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This Hand
© by Anja Jennessen

This hand
round my neck
holds my hair
tight, too tight
it hurts, can't breathe
cold metal
on my skin
scissors
...please don't...
golden locks
so soft
cut off
resistance has been broken
can't fight no more
I'm just a child…
This hand
round my throat
feel strangled
can't escape
from here
all these golden locks
like a silky blanket
on this bed of harm
...please don't...
dead faint embraces me
can't fight no more
I'm just a child...
just a child...
a child...
and thought you were...
...my father…

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