Left Hand(An Original Poem)

I might have touched the grave
with my left hand.
Can't remember when
the demons shook it
But it feels dead and strange.
I must have strained it
lugging my life around
Should have buried it in storage
with the ghosts and unforgiven
So now is healing time
Natural organic life restore
of my trigger hand
Left is my fulcrum
My voodoo
Keeps me sane
when I write the mad
Without left am lost and out