I Bit the Hand by Donna Dallas

The hand that fedclothedheldsmotheredthe same hand that posed itself as comfortfostered my birth I chewed into the knucklesthey crunched and poppedripped the hand offshook it with ragecame back later to lickdown to bone My savagery straight from the wombor nurtured so off the spectrumI was bled to believeI squeezed out taintedat eight I put a plastic bag over my headto diethe hand did not remove … Continue reading I Bit the Hand by Donna Dallas