My palms are calloused enough to the compatibility of leather.

I was gifted them while holding on to what was only trying to rid me.
                    
This is the art of holding on.
This is the art of letting go.  
        
And I'm sorry for the residue of my palm prints.
        
As for my scars,
They behold a lesson to who may question them.

A lesson I should've already know.

Skin isn't as durable as we wished it could be.