I awoke with a scream and saw blood on my hands Her unmoving form was beside me and a knife was in my hands Startled and shaken, the knife slipped from my hands The situation seemed bizarre and out of my hands How had the knife and blood made their way into my hands? I stood up unsteadily , placing my weight on my hands And glanced around and again at my bloody hands In the middle of nowhere , out of place looked my bloody hands A rope I thankfully found placed beside her slashed hands I tied her legs and bound her two fragile and mangled hands Then dragged her to the nearby lake by her hands I threw her into the lake using all the strength in my hands I threw the knife too, flung it with my hands Then cleaned the blood off carefully off of my hands The crime scene now didn’t hold a connection to me or my hands I was bewildered that I had managed a murder with these artistic hands I walked towards the winding road looking at my hands Mentally I wouldn’t be able to rid the blood off of my hands I stumbled and fell down often weighing down on my hands Yet I continued walking for the sake of these very hands Only a brush and paint ever had been held by these hands Now in a mess I was thanks to the wilfulness of my hands Why did I have to commit a crime using these artist’s hands ? I looked at the light at the end of the road covering my eyes with my hands It became brighter till it shone from between my hands It was then that I woke up from my dream screaming and waving my hands At the source of the light trying to stop it with my hands I took my head into my tired and long fingered hands Then kept staring confused at the paleness of my innocent, bloodless hands
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