I started shaking not in a good way.
Like it was a bad thing I didn’t remember. Like I was having PTSD.
Like I could remember ghosts of their hands on my body
But I had no control. I had no consciousness but the rumors kept spreading
And I get paranoid because I have no clue like there is a dark secrete.
I just wanted their hands off me. I just wanted them to stop staring.
Cut off their hands and throw them in the river like it would be justice to a dead man walking
Cause it was asking for vengence. I had the Ghost of My Father.