Hands Covered in Yours

Hands Covered in Yours

I never wanted a little
never wanted to share the feast
I wanted everything you ever touched piled in my corner while you watched me eat like some starving beast
Money, sure, I took that
but it was never the only thing that lit me up inside
I wanted your hours, your loyalty, your last good nerve
your secrets you swore you would never let slide.

You gave small things first, favors, rides, small loans
a couch when I had nowhere else to go, I took them
thanked you
then started testing just how far this hook in your chest could grow
Soon it was your weekends, your sleep
your blood pressure numbers creeping up while my demands stayed hot
Until your doctor circled “stress” on a chart

And I still did not stop.
I am not just greedy for stuff
I am greedy for proof you revolve around me
You tried to say no once, I turned that into a plea.
My hands are covered in yours
not just the cash you slid my way, But the hours
the years

the health I chewed through every time I said “please
just one more day, ” If greed is a sin
mine has fingerprints all over your tired bones
I do not just own what you gave
I own the parts you buried alone.

I watched you get paler, quieter, laugh less
move slower
eyes ringed like someone who has not rested in months
Every time you tried to pull back, I guiltripped you
called you disloyal, called you ungrateful
pulled old stunts
I kept a ledger in my head of every kindness you did

then marked it “interest owed” whenever you flinched away
And when you finally collapsed, faint in the kitchen
I worried you might die Before the next payment day.
They say I could not have known
that I am being too hard on myself when I say I took your blood
But I remember every time I saw your hands shake and asked for more
Every time your voice cracked like wood

Greed is not just numbers in a screen or metal bars in a safe
It is the way I kept squeezing you Long after you lost shape.
My hands are covered in yours
not just the cash you slid my way, But the hours
the years
the health I chewed through every time I said “please
just one more day, ” If greed is a sin

mine has fingerprints all over your tired bones
I do not just own what you gave
I own the parts you lost alone.
When I count what I gained
it looks big as hell on paper
all these things I ripped free
When I count what you lost

It looks a lot like murder Done quietly by me.