Hold it Still
Please read the wonderful words of a talented writer.
The joy of home repairs is when the wrench slips
And it feels like I stripped the skin off my knuckles
But I only stripped the bolt. And memory starts its revolt
And the Old Man is alive again saying
"Don't hold it like that! JESUS! hold it still so I can see!"
And I am learning - not how to clear a u-bend,
But learning that I hold a torch 'like an idiot.'
There's a memory - so long ago, like the burns of lit cigarettes
It leaves a mark, but not one you see, just one you feel
Don't rub the spot too long or you get yelled at
"For GOD'S SAKE, it wasn't that bad!"
But the Old Man isn't here, and it's not fair, that I get to miss him
And also remember the abuse.
What is forgiveness, understanding, apologies?
Restorative justice found me while I…
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