i’ve never really placed much attention to my hands they just work write eat wipe bathe pick scrub love cup stroke pet grope sweat type hold i took them to a man and he injected ink in some places symbols only useful to me oh and i’ve never taken into consideration how much they’ve fought mostly against myself and with people bent on kicking my ass the fingers are aging too crooked they will inevitably be if i’m lucky to get to be that old a little scarred and a little cracked in some bones from falls punches and climbing up or down from walls maybe i was too wild for my hands although i’ve had some feminine moments with polish and rings among other things a woman’s hands are good for my nails are short and i chew them off when no one is around to comfort me the lines on my palms are the secret roadmap i think i have followed in my travels with tiny trenches diving deep and some just cutting off i might have a few knuckles bigger than the rest but that’s ok i want to keep them as a trophy to my life

8 thoughts on “hand

  1. The things we take for granted. This is written so eloquently. I think I am going to borrow this idea for a prompt I’m following. See how you inspire a tired and flagging mind.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Hands – Len's Diary

  3. A look into a person’s eyes may reveal thoughts/emotion/soul, but they can lie. Hands don’t. Their look, their feel, the way they work, tell far more about who and what that person is. A simple handshake turns out to not be simple at all, for me anyways. A firm grasp and direct eye contact conveys more than a thousand words. Wear your hands proudly, keep your grip firm and let your eyes shine.

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