I remember his hands,
They were my comfort my hope.
They were safe and strong,
Always there to help me cope.
All this would shift,
When daddy got mad,
They were fast and mean,
Even if you were not bad.
The love would leave,
As his words picked up speed,
And then like a viper,
It was off with the belt and onto the deed.
I remember the bruises,
The ones I always hid,
Cause no one could know,
What daddy's hand did.
I can remember the worst,
I was a teen,
I kissed a boy,
Daddy's hands had seen.
He got angry good and fast,
This time I was too old for a belt,
So he punched me in the face
And left me with a welt.
The time he almost got caught,
Was when he called me a whore,
I knew his hands were coming,
He slammed me into the door.
The worst ever, I am still scared,
When his hands pulled out a gun,
Then something in me snapped,
This abuse was done.
The hand shook,
As my voice raised to say,
'You cannot do this,
This is not Ok.'
It's taken time,
But we both worked hard,
To get where we are today,
And forever there will be a scar.
There was hours of work,
Months and years,
Of painful growth,
And truthful tears.
I cannot trust him fully,
And he still scares me,
But he'll never hurt me again,
Because he loves me and lets me be.
