Hands.

It's a struggle to find breath these nights
As I look at my hands in this pale, doubtful light
I want to hide from them, to lock them away
To fold my fingers and palms into a safe

I watch them tap on eternity's door
They're pulling at the strings of time
And when I wake, they'll betray me
And pull my skin down until my shoulders ache

Halfway between what I see and where I stand
Stop reaching;