TattoosRead my body like an open book before you -Tattoos9 years ago in Free Verse
You call them tattoos; I call them my soul.
I cut my life's story into my skin so I'd never forget,
Then I covered up with cloth in shame.
Now I'm naked before your cold, unyielding eyes;
I shiver and wonder if you understand -
I'm an allegory, not a man.
I never told but now you know -
Tattoos and scars – this is my soul.
TattoosTattoos. One for each moment in life that actually had meaning. I adore running my hands along the painted skin, the ink that should not naturally be there. Each design is beautiful and intricate, none of them simple, and all of them unique. There are many on this single body and they are all in many different places positioned on her glowing skin.Tattoos5 years ago in Short Stories
Her first is the seahorse on the left side of her chest, just above her heart. Small, yellow, cute. It represents her younger sister, Jane, who died at age twelve. She had leukemia and, though she suffered, I was told that she always had a bright smile on her youthful face. "Why a seahorse?" I had asked her once. She explained that it was the stuffed animal she had bought Jane when she was first hospitalized at the age of ten. Ever since that day, Jane never went anywhere without that stuffed seahorse, which was small enough for her to carry in her little, fragile hands. "She died with it in her arms," she told me, tears threat