He drew,
Overnight,
Till the morning,
Something beautiful,
Till his hand ached,
His brain wondering the meaning,
Of those 12 words,
I remember the smell of the shop,
Wafts of adrenaline & home,
Leather couches,
And hot guys,
I remember when I saw the outline,
Beautiful my eyes watered,
He took me to the back room,
Pushing up my sleeve,
Washing my arm carefully,
He shakenly asked me what it meant,
What the 12 words were,
And the beautiful wave,
He wouldn't meet my eyes,
I softly said,
It shows my trust in God,
He inhaled,
I smile small,
I tell him of his love,
And how these 12 words represent our,
Relationship,
He finally looks up at me,
He says I've must've thought about this,
Through,
I smile as he presses the needle to my skin,
Four hours of spending time with him,
Laughing and joking,
I had hoped to have inspired you billy,
All I can see when I close my eyes,
Is how you held on,
To that book,
You thought it gave you answers,
And you grasped it so tight,
Tighter than the machine,
You filled with ink,
Permentally marking me for life,
I watched as the inspiration evaporated,
You titled your head,
Giving me a small sad smile,
The satanic bible clenched in you enclosed fist,
Because how could someone ever put all their trust, into someone who is suppose to be so good, in a world so bad.
So why fight fire with fire,
When you can just lay down and sleep with the wicked,
It makes me sad sometimes,
Thinking of you,
But I know as the years go by,
As I go back to you over and over again,
As I am more ink than skin,
I'll teach you to love once more,
You speak in every curling wave, & sing in every violent breeze.
12 words