I feel his desperate hands everywhere
He held me to the bed
What you did wasn't fair
"Keep quiet" I remember he said
He held a pillow over my face
So he didn't have to watch me cry
I lay still and quiet and stay in place,
Just asking god "but why?"
I feel his desperate hands everywhere
Even though it was long ago
I always have to be constantly aware
Whether its friend or foe
I feel his hands in every touch
I hate how much it haunts me
I didn't think it affected me this much,
I guess that's what they call ptsd