Poetry of Stephanie Bennett Henry, Uncategorized

Blood on Your Hands

I’m not going to keep saying sorry for 

all the times my fingers have 

cut themselves on the thick blade  

of danger, that swings back and forth, 

between my right mind and the one 

that’s oh so wrong. Because when 

the shiny sharp of that wrong place 

makes me bleed, you act like you 

never saw a thing, but I see blood on 

your hands. I see blood on your hands. 

Pretending will not ever wash it off. 

  -Stephanie Bennett-Henry©

Blood on Your Hands

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