my hands were cut up and bleeding, cause the desert was drying them out. had to dig into the green, metal tin of grease, grandma's old remedy, switched soaps. where's the balance? the cold outside, the heat inside. cause there wasn't any humidity. but where would i rather be? where my hands are dry and cracking, cut up and bleeding, sore and raw. someone left some intensive therapy lotion on the counter. it had silver glitter in it. every time i looked down at my glitter covered hands, i'd feel ridiculous. as if the glitter will cover the sores.