I am getting bad at titles

The words to another new song. Again, without a title.

Verse:
These shoulders
May be the only ones fit
To bear the weight
That I must.

This heart
May be strong enough,
To feel what I feel
And not bust.

Chorus:
I was made for this,
From the skin on my hand
To the bones in my fist.

I was made for this.
Though my knuckles are white
As ghosts when I grip,

I hold on.
I hold on.

Verse:
May've taken my eyes
And put 'em in the wrong holes,
But they'll never
Take my sight.

May've taken my dreams
And stripped 'em from my soul,
But new ones will come
Every night.

Chorus:
I was made for this,
From the skin on my hand
To the bones in my fist.

I was made for this.
Though my knuckles are white
As ghosts when I grip,

I hold on.
I hold on.

Short and sweet, but a very important song for me to write.