Dirty Hands

She gripped my hand as she pleaded with her eyes                                                                               If I let go I knew she would die-                                                                                                                   I looked out at the water and up at the sky                                                                                             Then pried her fingers loose, she let out a loud cry…

I looked down at my soiled hands                                                                                                                 What had I done? Wasn’t she my friend?                                                                                                    Every emotion I felt hit me in the end-                                                                                             I dove in with regret clouding my head…

I searched and reached and scraped and fought                                                                                       But, I can’t breathe, was this all for nought?                                                                                           Suddenly, I find her long brown hair and pull                                                                                           With effort, we surface, and her smiling face is blue.

Author: Katestrawberry

I am a published author and writer/editor available for hire. I create abnormal, strange, and sometimes slightly erotic poetry. Crazy Girl. Creative Genius.

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