Handwriting

Is it too much to ask for affection? Underneath these calluses lies the tenderness of my fingertips Like the refusal of a feline for touch Or the loud barking of a stray dog Just like them, oh how I wish Someone would hold these hands Or trust that you could keep me safe Or understand me when no one can But that seems to be the problem, is it not? Why must I beg, Why must I wound my knees in the gravel, Why must I always stain my eyes red with tears So I say, "forgive this restless heart" For no one can find every sliver of this porcelain Neither can my lips be legible, nor can my pen Being that not every one can hear the sniffles Behind the grins and guffaws I share Is it too much to ask, dear reader?