Hands

By Fujimi (不死身)


My hands are wet and cold
Dropping what they're holding like a sunset—
Slow and painful.
They are caressing those leaden memories, and
I thought (wish) I had gotten rid of this before.

Something is hurting inside, and it won't go away
And I can't help but claw at it, yet
It won't go away.
My hands let loose some of the wet drops I can't (won't) identify,
As I claw and claw and claw, and—
Why won't this go away?

The traitorous eyes drip and drip and drip,
And as the hands go up to wipe them,
I lose more of what I can't see,
But I can feel it.

And I wonder, why won't this end?
I can't . . . I can't . . . I can't handle this.
I can't fucking stop this—
They keep dripping and dripping and dripping
And . . . I just want them to stop . . .

I can't feel my hands anymore,
And it's all gone.
The drop of time my hands were holding onto,
The memories my eyes were holding wouldn't stop leaking.
They just wouldn't stop.

And I'm empty.
And I'm numb.
And it's all gone.

Isn't this what I wanted all along?


04 September 2006