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Handfuls
by: Cricket

she holds handfuls of nothing
crescent nails biting into palm bones
clinging desperately to a stability that isn't there
as she stares into the void of the lack of a void
and her lack of a voice
echoing through her head
screams in fear
clenched fists and clenched teeth
and clenched determination beneath.

he holds handfuls of something
that got there he doesn't know how
naked flesh in a mirror
and darkness here suits him best
resting more lightly than light
on soft hanging weight that fills hands
as he stands, trying to shrug, looking,
something deep inside trying not to cry
he reaches for handfuls of something anything numbing
for a trembling stomach
always jiggling, both outside and internal
entirely too visible
impossible to hide or disguise from staring stabbing
eyes
handfuls of silent reprimands
stranding him on an island he sadly despises
too many eyes, not enough hands.

©2000 Cricket. Reprinted with Permission.

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