Hands//Paws - A Poem
#4 of Scrapbook
It can be hard to wash off the dirt.
A poem for while you wait for me to write more porn. :3
Hands aren't meant to feel this weird
I'm not meant to spend all day looking
They're not meant to rash
They're not meant to bloody
They're just supposed to be,
Another part of your body
That we use as tools,
To try not to damage
Too delicate, but somehow we manage
To heal,
To come back,
No matter how it's stacked.
But some of us lose our hands:
An amputee,
Or an escapee,
Because sometimes we
Move on
To something only drawn
But it's not better, it's just new
It's cute, it's fun, yes,
But it's not all you.
But still I wish
That it could find my fate:
The one written in my palms
And straighten out my traits
To something pure and good,
But it's plain to me
No matter what I see
There's still just skin beneath.