I studied every callus on the palms of both my hands
and they brought me to places that I longed to understand
where memories were blurred under the layers of the lies
I always heard you spreading when I opened up my eyes

If I remembered anything, I’d keep it to myself
for fear that if I spoke out loud, I’d never breathe again
I kept my thoughts as covered up and quiet as I could
and pressed my hands together through the bad and through the good

And so became the calluses that formed on both my palms
the ones I had to study every layer of because
I needed what was quiet not most ruinous in me
to keep my hands in motion and to put my mind at ease