The ink seeps into my skin
And you all own me
Patented to your specifications.
Still there days later,
It doesn't feel like art
When you ain't got a choice.
It feels like branding.
Reminds me of a different mark
Seared into my skin.
He's around, and it feels like
A hot metal stamp
On my wrists, my hands
The parts that hurt.
The places that later when you forget
You lean on a table or go to grab something and
All the pain returns,
Screaming.
I am graffitied every day
By passers by who love her, touch and take,
While my hands are tied.
I am scrawled on by lovers of mine,
Who don't know that "No." with a smile
Is still "No."
Different types, different reasons,
But they all burn.
And I get it,
Why people quit.
Why they run away or simply stop.
I'm never clean, never untouched.
Everybody else gets a say, gets a turn
To use me and make me apologize,
To degrade me and make me thank them,
My skin like plastic melting
And they see it's pliable----
A chance to leave their stamp of ownership.
Sad thing is,
If looks were souls and not shells,
Nobody would find me beautiful enough
To mar, "X WAZ HERE"
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC
The ink seeps into my skin
And you all own me
Patented to your specifications.
Still there days later,
It doesn't feel like art
When you ain't got a choice.
It feels like branding.
Reminds me of a different mark
Seared into my skin.
He's around, and it feels like
A hot metal stamp
On my wrists, my hands
The parts that hurt.
The places that later when you forget
You lean on a table or go to grab something and
All the pain returns,
Screaming.
I am graffitied every day
By passers by who love her, touch and take,
While my hands are tied.
I am scrawled on by lovers of mine,
Who don't know that "No." with a smile
Is still "No."
Different types, different reasons,
But they all burn.
And I get it,
Why people quit.
Why they run away or simply stop.
I'm never clean, never untouched.
Everybody else gets a say, gets a turn
To use me and make me apologize,
To degrade me and make me thank them,
My skin like plastic melting
And they see it's pliable----
A chance to leave their stamp of ownership.
Sad thing is,
If looks were souls and not shells,
Nobody would find me beautiful enough
To mar, "X WAZ HERE"
