Skin
A hand
Seems so innocent
One could be touched and used for support without a second thought.
Oh, How happy I am that I am no longer that naive.
A hand.
Skins of different shades and temperatures
All with different energies of intent.
Some Hands, a few hands
Could Caress my soul into an eternal bliss of comfort
Other hands, those hands
Of my past left bruises on a level of me that can only be felt on my soul
Interesting how something, So Physical, So Tangible
Can effect one on an energetic level
So Powerful
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So Useful
So cruel
When will I get to the hand of pure intent
I know my own are pure but they long for another of the same kind
To be held
To be loved
To be seen
Until that hand comes along I’ll suffice with my own
To rub the bruises left by others
To caress the scratches embedded by those who deceived
To pleasure and please those hidden parts of me me
Until that hand comes along I’ll suffice with the warmth from the hands of my family and friends
Whos love continues to show that it truly has no end
Those hands hold me up
Those hands pulled me down
But my hands, my hands are my protection
