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  • The Hand of A Friend

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    El Color de las Flores
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    The poem explores themes of self-harm, vulnerability, and trust. The speaker asks if another would hurt or break them if asked nicely, handing over instructions or a blade. While used to their own pain, the speaker's wounds run deeper than visible blood. They question if another could comply and cut through their flesh, holding the pieces of their puzzle together, or build lies to put them to sleep.

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    The Hand of a Friend

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    The poem explores themes of self-harm, vulnerability, and trust. The speaker asks if another would hurt or break them if asked nicely, handing over instructions or a blade. While used to their own pain, the speaker's wounds run deeper than visible blood. They question if another could comply and cut through their flesh, holding the pieces of their puzzle together, or build lies to put them to sleep.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    4 views1 page

    The Hand of A Friend

    Uploaded by

    El Color de las Flores
    The poem explores themes of self-harm, vulnerability, and trust. The speaker asks if another would hurt or break them if asked nicely, handing over instructions or a blade. While used to their own pain, the speaker's wounds run deeper than visible blood. They question if another could comply and cut through their flesh, holding the pieces of their puzzle together, or build lies to put them to sleep.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    of 1

    Can I Ask You a Question?

    Would you hurt me And then I wonder


    If I asked nicely? Would it be enough?
    If I handed you the instructions The threatening point of a knife
    To cause wreckage and destruction Manipulated by an acquiescent hand
    Would you break me? To fracture a broken soul

    A surgeon would try to fix my wounds When you puncture my shell


    But you’re not a doctor. Do not be afraid
    And sometimes damage runs deeper You won’t see the redness of my pain
    Than the thick, rubescent blood As I have taught myself not to bleed
    That mocks my cuts
    And dampens my bones You’ll get a glimpse of it all
    The scars and the bones
    Could you bring yourself to oblige? But never the blood
    Bring your delicate hands Because I’m used to it by now
    To move to the dull rhythm of the The feeling of the cut
    Humming of my human heart beating Poked and prodded and clawed
    The everlasting thumping Pulled apart by a beast called love
    Of my mind
    Tangled thoughts like constellations
    A soft compliant touch Uncertainty and doubt and limitations
    Handling a hostile defiant blade All coursing through my veins like
    Would you make the cut? inspiration
    Would you pierce my skin It can all be mistaken for beauty
    Like I did so many times before? Oh, how blind sight can be
    When it is in the eye of a friend
    If I handed you a scalpel
    I wouldn’t hold you to blame
    When you cut through the flesh
    That held all the pieces together
    Like parts of a puzzle
    What an intricate game
    Would you like to play?

    Given the chance


    Of piercing my husk
    Would you look me in the eye
    And sing me a cradlesong?

    Would you lie?


    Mask the blade with flowers
    And build with lies
    A handsome tower
    Just to put me to sleep

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