Hands That Built The Question

hands that built the question born with empty palms soft skin restless bone first time i grabbed at the world it stopped being unknown i drew lines in the dirt called this piece of it mine opened my fists in the dark pulled a boundary from time these hands they made a prison and a home built a word for yours and mine and all alone we touched the world and tore it into parts hands that built the question in our hearts why do i exist just to like take and break and miss why do i exist with hands that twist all these little gifts fingerprints on the glass smudged proof that i was here trading objects for affection swapping comfort out for fear we learned to point and accuse we learned to signal and swear every grip every grasp turned a thought into a snare think of all the things that we possess and think of all the things that we could have no i dont wanna think of what i am cause when i think of what i am it kills with what we were given what we couldve been i dont wanna think of what i am no it kills open hand (it kills) closed fist (it kills) open hand (it kills) does it always end like this (no) (yes) i said this is mine (it kills) then this is me (it kills) then this is all (it kills) then what else could there be (a killer only kills) if i can hold it (kill it) (kill it) (kill it) i can lose it (kill it) (kill it) (kill it) if i can name it (kill it) (kill it) (kill it) i can use it (kill it) (kill it) (kill it) if i can speak it (kill it) i can feel it (kill it) if i can feel it (kill it) can i heal it (kill it) think of all the things that we possess and think of all the things that we could have no i dont wanna think of what i am cause when i think of what i am it kills with what we were given what we couldve been i dont wanna think of what i am no it kills if i can hold it (kill it) i can lose it (kill it) if i can name it (kill it) i can use it (kill kill kill it) if i can speak it (kill it) i can feel it (kill me)