Title 66

Whats left between my hands are the remains of a past i used to scent sweet
I used to love kind
I still remember the feel of sibha beads silking through my good hands
my heart beating at the right pace
my mind awake to the internal of life
I still see the young girl sharp and innocent begging god for something i will never know and yet Im almost certain she will get it
I dont know but her honesty was trivial her courage and my curiosity were matched with temptation to ask the same question
please god forgive me
whats left between my hands are the broken ages of a woman missing
her shadow swept by the wind
taken by the string of future
woz ere
whats left between my hands.....
anger
frustration
fear
denial
always in denial
suscpicion
time waste
time destruction
time infliction of hurt

I feel time cutting me with its sword
suddenly i feel old
useless
past the age of other young women
and i think
what happened
am i Not hte same age as those ladies/
?
yes
but I do not feel like htat
I do not think like that
I do not breathe like that
I breath
to die
and not to live
whats left between my hands
are the old pictures of smiling girl once thinking a massive future is ahead of her but simply
put
little did hse know

that her own life was taken away by her own hands and strangled and  that is whats left between my hands.............