I wear my heart on my sleeve,
love too deep,
give too much of myself away.
But I wear the insults too
like tattoos etched beneath my skin,
words I never asked to keep.
I take things personally,
not because I'm fragile,
but because somewhere along the way
it was carved into my brain
that every broken thing in the room
must somehow be my fault.
So every criticism finds a home,
every rejection grows roots,
and every harsh word echoes longer
than it ever should.
I've spent years carrying
other people's anger in my pockets,
mistaking it for my own reflection.
A body covered in fingerprints
from hands that never stayed long enough
to see the bruises they left behind.
I love deeply.
But what nobody tells you
is that people who love deeply
often bleed deeply too.
And when you've spent years being told
you're the problem,
even your wounds start apologizing
for being there.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
But the hardest thing I've ever done
is learning that not every wound
belongs to me.
I wear your handwriting,
fingerprints color my form
pressing poetically, buargeoning
on heaving breasts
and thickened nipples,
lyrical layers of cursive content
reflect rubaiyat scribbles
of "I love you"
across a bared belly
Notes of sweet nothings
linger abut
Warm hands
paint upon with
rapturous rhymes
rewinding,
brushstrokes bathe our bodies,
as I read you
hammering pulsation
of your heartbeat
comes alive,
as sketchings
adrift draft melting kisses
Tattooed tunes,
as pet names,
titillating resins
of a lovers gifts
You are in my skin
Forever on my skin your name will linger
He pierced his nose, his eyes, one toe
tattooed his arm, his foot, you know
in competition with a friend
will these markings ever end
a spider, snake, fat rat too
tattoos in red, black and blue
piercing their feet, piercing their butt
piercing their neck, ankle and gut
that’s enough their mothers say
an intervention right away
in walk their dads – Beau and Boo
Each with a giant tattoo
my life laid lifeless in your hands,
you decided to be the one to bring me back.
to be the only one i held faith in.
to be the only one to deserve me.
i never asked to get attached to these scars.
it got uglier with every line you drew.
with every cut you made, i healed perfectly.
why would you give me
these beautifully flawed tattoos?
you never answer me.
this mirror is no longer my reflection,
i’m missing.
this body is no more than a reminder.
the eyes i looked at you with.
the tongue that dirtied your name.
the face that you longed to see.
what use am i now?
i can’t handle this alone,
this soul meant to hold two.
Joyce has tattoos on her arms
tattoos on her foot
a tattoo on her forehead
isn’t that sweet?
Not so long-ago women did not do this
a tattoo on her tummy is a lip with a kiss
An enormous tattoo covers her entire upper back
It’s an enormous oak tree and there are words
She offers to show me the tattoo on her hip
No, I say, it’s okay.
It’s actually weird to me.
I never realized women would do this to their bodies.
a young boy approached me
asked me for a dollar
Where are your parents
I almost hollered
he pointed to the tattoos
on his arms
one of ‘mom,’ the other of ‘dad’
“There they are,” he said
Lulu wanted this, that, those, these and the other.
Thought she deserved them, she dated a rich mother.
He liked tattoos, pretty soon her legs were tatted up.
So many tats, it rivaled the hair on her cat and pup.
Red tats, blue tats, yellow tats, purple tats, black tats too.
We asked her not to tell Grandma as she fixed our stew.
We had to all stop our concern and our ’n
When we saw Grandma’s legs out in the kitchen.
Grandma had six tats herself in pink and blue.
Not as much as you, she told Lulu.
But I am going to get them now, I bet.
The only one we saw cringing was Old crow, grandma’s pet.
The tattoos all over the body of that young lady ~
what will they look like when she's seventy or eighty?
I'm afraid the ass of that sweet young lass
smelling flowers above her reclining lover in the grass
will slowly start squatting down on his bearded face, alas.
My skin tells a tale, no shame, no regret/
Ink etched in darkness, paths firmly set/
Each mark a whisper, Occult and profound/
Symbols of magic, where shadows abound/
The inverted cross, a forearm's creed/
A testament to journey, to spirit and need/
Commanding respect, not of gangster lore/
But ancient rites, that my soul explores/
A clean life I walk, sober, legit/
No chains of vice, no shame to admit/
Perhaps I'm one of a few, rare in my kind/
Tattoos of the night, with a disciplined mind/
Celebrity or not, it's not what I claim/
But through the ink flows my spiritual flame/
Proud of my canvas, a map of my quest/
My tattoos are my armor, my silent confess/
Mummy from 3000 BC
Had a tattoo on its knee
Mustache ink above his lip
Mummy from Chilie, ink did drip
In the fifties tattoos became extinct
But today’s teenagers beg for their ink
Cultural identity now often seen
Spiritual beliefs on a tat, blue green.
Paintings, or surreal, today's tattoos
form complex, phenomenal works of art.
And unlike traditional blacks or blues,
artists blend pigments that pop from the start.
It's worth a little clenching and wincing
to gain that light-and-shadow interplay.
Art, so realistic and convincing,
tats are on another level today.
No longer fading away to a bruise,
futuristic shades ink modern pieces.
And tattoo artists today free their muse
to create magnificent masterpieces.
Today, body tattoos are more refined;
human canvases crave to be unique.
Exhibiting inks that will blow your mind,
their skin hosts the artist's latest technique.
On the human skin engraved
And for long seconds watched by The Enslaved
To the speechless delight of Spirit of the Eyes
Brazenly walking away with a victory, giant-size:
Self-pitying sighs From The Holy Ghost
Not remembered at His invisible but nearby post.
A great saver of precious Time
Now becomes Time’s Reckless Spender,
No longer valuing the accruing dime:
The tapestry on human skin his shaming bender:
What a magnificence - also quite dreary,
A preserver of one’s potential but in theory,
The covenanting marks largely a lasting puzzle
To the Neck-Deep Worldly, an enduring dazzle…
To forever remain paintings of resilience
On the welcoming flesh of People of Eminence
In some sense, the on-skin signature of The Anarchic
And stylish affirmation of a mind, chaotic;
Sometimes a hurried search for an intimidating identity,
Wherefore they may be The Badge of a Non-Entitiy.
Now I enter public school
Where religion is against the rules
You may deface your arms with tattoos
But don't speak of God, that's taboo
Shave your head or color it green
Elect a transgender homecoming queen
Just don't study the Bible; it's obscene
Since progressive values it may demean
Study Marx & Lenin, Malcom X
Start a chat group 'bout kinky sex
Learn that indigenous people are always right
But not Abraham or Moses -- they were white
Thank God school's over for today
Time to leave ~ Go home and pray
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