Work Text:
The hand that fed you, clothed you, raised you, molded you in its shape
Failed, succeeded, maybe tried; taught history gods and hate
It loved you in the ways it could
And maybe it was sometimes good
It held you close and watched you grow,
Then if you're lucky, let you go
The hand that feeds you, pays you, robs you, and cradles you in palm
Familiar, warm—all you've been told—the hand is never wrong
It steals the earth, it stains the sky
'For you, my love,' it sings on high
But do not dare to ask to go
'There's nothing else.' 'I told you so.'
The hand that found you, saved you, bound you, it makes you want to die,
To curl up, to run away, to lash against the lies
But you'll always have a handle
To fit its blooded glove
Fingerprints left in your brain:
The structure of its love
The hand is safe, the hand is sacred, it wisely guides the flock
And when you have such caring Lord, what need have you for locks?
He built for you this life
And gave you highways built on bones
Held you at arm's distance,
As to always keep you close
The hand that feeds you is the one that leads you, choking, by a rope
And collar bruises skin,
Orders you to fall in,
Orders, 'abandon all hope'
So you curl at his heels, and beg for your meals—it grinds away your self
He strokes your cheek,
Lies that you're weak
Just to keep you on your shelf
But cutting the anchor means remaining adrift
And he sees all of your flairs
So since you're his thing,
And always have been,
He sails to close the rift
Then you're rescued again, hand different or same,
And he pulls you to your feet
He smiles and he lies
Love, control disguised
And don't you feel ashamed?
Obey the hand that feeds you
(Lash against the chains)
Love the hand that hurts you
Celebrate the pain
Bite the bleeding beating hand,
Run away again
But his voice returns in you
Saying he's your friend
Return to ease his conscience
Beg mercy from your father
Tears in your eyes, kiss the hand
Let him abuse you further
He lifts you up to let you down, to call you a disappointment
An eternal failed self-portrait,
With painted-over face
A cracked and tarnished looking glass,
The object of his hate
Return to false and perfect childhood; invent your innocence
The hand will tell you how to feel
To lick the leaded paint
To watch the shadows on the wall
To pray that it is real
Shelter in the collapsing ribcage of this old and rotting world,
Embrace a precious paid-for dream
Drink all that you're given
Skip over all of the dark parts
Pure and bloody heaven
Obey the hand that feeds you
(Tired from the chains)
Love the hand that hurts you
Learn to love the pain
Bite the wretched heartsick hand,
Copy all its wounds
Forsake your poor abused soul,
Lose your only friend
Return to sooth his madness
Mercy, heavenly father
Tears in your eyes, kiss the hand,
Let him abuse you further
The hand sings truth, the hand sings law,
Sings of suffering and of god
It knows of everything you did,
And denies all that you saw
With a touch to shatter worlds
And a smile to inspire dread
Using loving slight of hand,
Plants ideas in your head
Noble suffering of the heir
Prove perfect son or daughter
The fingers interlock your hair
And plunge you into water
He offers, for survival, praise
So long as nothing else is felt
But adoration in your gaze
As you're pushed below the belt
Deny the hand that haunts you
(Melt away all chains)
See the hand that hurt you
Recognize the pain
Shake away the haunting touch
Stroke your healing wounds
Doubt the life you thought was true
One you loved too much
But the words, they never leave
And sometimes things get harder
Even when the hand is gone,
Its wake abuses further
But love is in the shade of blood,
It carries violent weight
And when alone what can you do,
But fill that aching shape
But when you think he's gone
You'll see that weathered hand
Acting on His behalf
In mirrors and in man
Lie in bed, mind wide awake,
Open scars until you're numb
Wish in tears you could escape
From beneath the world's thumbs
Punish yourself for every act,
Something taught since you were born
Guilt spilling from your hands
And wounds from all the rest
A million lashes, red and worn,
From times that you confessed
But guilt is for the innocent
And heaven's for the greedy
The world's for them—this for you
An already-signed treaty
They give promises 'it's for the best'
But they're hollower than I
They'll profit off your every breath
And refuse to let you die
The hand claims 'this always was'
That this hell was not designed
But in fact it never questioned
The role it was assigned
They had the world and slaughtered it,
Just to mount it on their wall
A mockery of the beauty
Inherent around us all
Despite global reach, the hand has fallen from your heart
Even if it wasn't much, you withstood what you could stand
So even though they took so much, you triumphed in the end
You saved some small part of the world; you earned another start
You look up to the faded sky; fail to see the stars
But even though that light is gone, you find some shredded peace
Maybe friends or lovers—you forgave yourself, at least
And wait now for the end of worlds, wrapped peacefully in scars