My Hand

Most people follow their delusional hearts

But I follow my all knowing hand

My brain knows nothing

But my intuitive hand holds the key to my future and my past

 

Looking down at my hand I see purple veins throbbing with electricity

I trace the lines engraved in my palms as they lead me to unknown solutions,

Giving me answers that have been stored just layers beneath my skin

 

In my palm, I hear my mother whisper

“Hold your hand to your heart and I’ll be there”

And I do, as my palm is the only link from my soul to my mother’s

 

In my palm, I see nineteen years

Calluses screaming with pain and dedication

Fingernail marks dug into my palms from grudges so tightly wound

But mostly, I see a canvas

A space for new experiences and new lessons to help guide me through life