i have a hand in my chest
by my heart
no one will tell me how it got there
it came u p on the X-ray
i don’t know what to say
i have a hand in my chest
by my heart
it happened when i was 24
And even though I was young,
my heart was old, already sore,
slowly breaking at the core,
from learning what a life is for,
(It gives you your senses, but not a cent more)
it happened at the music store
i should have been gleaming,
but instead i was glumming,
He pounced on me in a shadow
it happened while dreaming, drumming
it happened by the guitars and guitars,
where long hair was streaming, strumming
There’s wasn’t no screaming, scrumming,
it happened so slow,
what did he look like?
I don’t even know.
he smiled and drugged me
and dragged me somewhere private
reached down through my mouth
and into my chest
wrapped his fingers around it
while it was still beating.
when he pulled up his arm, and this is a guess,
he drew up a stump,
but there wasn’t a mess;
it was his intention to leave his hand behind
many years later
i feel it squeezing, and squirming
and waiting to kill me some day
knowing it’s in there, sure doesn’t thrill me,
but i think i can live with it,
i think it’s kind of ok,
and maybe i think
that in some kind of strange way
it’s needed, it’s soothing,
it keeps me alive.
granted i’d have it removed
in a heartbeat
I’d drive to the doctor,
but I’m too soothed to drive
i just wish i remember,
just how it happened,
there’s a spot in my memory
that’s hazy at best,
what was he thinking,
why did he do it,
no one will tell me,
they’re letting it rest
maybe someday,
they will put me in surgery,
and take out that damn freaky hand,
that’s holding my heart,
maybe i’ll be fine,
and i won’t die in surgery,
but just who is “they”
maybe it’ll come out some day,
or maybe it’s fine
maybe it’s the only thinking keeping
me alive,
oh…
fuck…
maybe it’s mine.