I basically rewrote this, so let me know what you think!

“My Hands”

I don’t have pretty hands.
my palms resemble lumpy squares,
squashed and deformed into flesh.

Stocky fingers stick out awkwardly;
they bend and crook around my camera,
twitching with the shutter as I take my picture.

Square nails sit on their ends,
chewed short, so they stay out of the way,
ragged and abandoned.

A huge, ugly callous deforms
the middle digit of my right hand,
formed from years of writing and
sketching with my grey pencils.

The skin is always dry.
my knuckles crack and bleed,
and the backs of my hands look
like they’re covered in scales.

I see my hands hover over
the art I use them to create and realize:

I don’t have pretty hands,
I have beautiful ones.