Not all Hands are Good Hands

curly haired boy reminds you of fire

but not the brightness of it

just the burning

and the aftermath

and the smell of something over cooked

but still not edible

still somehow left raw

he reminds you of your father

a man who holds knives on his tongue

and spits ash

will always remind you of the last man that held you captive

you will think him prophet

you will think him protector

with no sharp edges on his sword

your subconscious will call him father

notice how his words curl around your throat

notice the lack of oxygen

notice how he pulls strings like puppet master

you will let him feel like one

because he reminds you of your father

how elegantly he carves obedience out of you ,

how easily .

curly haired boy

is very much still boy

he says that he would be nothing

without the women who raised him

he says they gave him everything

you will wonder what he has given back to them

you will wonder why he is so accustomed to taking

from women

but he is never called a thief

only father .

and yet there are days when these feel like synonyms .

notice how easily a man can become mentor

if he wears a mask

notice how he calls himself a poet

notice the blood on his hands-

I mean ,his pen

I mean , his students .

he will not notice the crimson rivers he is creating

because he is so busy crying his own .