Aggressive lines of art

The lines in my hand are aggressive.
They have this criss-cross fights
against the others.

Some put up well,
Some mark a scar,
Some lie lifelessly.

Stranger’s eyes read them and
predicts the life I’ll live in future.
Sometimes I’ll put up well, sometimes
I’ll have to earn scars and other times
I will just lie there blandly giving
up on the reasons to fight for.

But as I said, these are aggressive
wrinkles I inherited directly from
those whose grip never dwindled
from their swords.

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