MacEwan University’s student publication. Honest reporting, quality media, and good vibes.

The Hands That Hold Us

I was not made for this. I was not made to slip over skin, in between, then inside. I was not meant to taste the bite of blood, fresh and warm, deep within the heart itself, or the arm, stomach, thigh. I remember before. I remember my creator. The care and love he put into me. With every swing of the hammer, he beat into me, “you are not a weapon,” and “you do not destroy.” He engraved into me his seal, marking me as a tool, then he shined me up and put me in a case. A beautiful display of a creation made to assist. That was the time when I was proud of what I was as opposed to the disgust I feel now. I remember the day that clammy hand came into the shop. I remember what it felt like when my creator took me out of my case and placed...

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Oct 2024  🎃

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