One Day,
Sit down.
As eventual right hands may be.
With a counselor.
Can tell horror stories,
Told her.
Struggle to tell them,
More often than not.
Hiding meaning.
Even myself,
Perhaps.
Hurt washed away:
Ribbons –
Of Metaphor.
Picking up my blood,
Cupped hands,
Trying to pour it back In:
Open wounds.
Cupped Hands.
