I am not a killer. But

every night, I beg Jesus

to heal my killing hands.

There is blood everywhere.

I cannot escape the labels

given to me at birth. I know

I have the ability to be more.

I know how far apart

each star is from the next,

and that, with the right calculations,

I can see hope.

I am not a killer. But

every night, I beg Jesus

to heal my killing hands