feeling it pierce my skin is a mysterious thing.. a type of pain that makes my heart sing.. it's funny what this emotion of expression can bring.. scraping my skin while all i feel is this sting.. so i lie and wait for us to start.. then i hear the machine hum.. my heart starts beating like a pounding drum.. my skin starts to feel numb.. this symbolic expression of myself in this art begins as my soul takes depart.. a temporary place where i can restart so my life wont fall apart.. this journey of pain and skin scraping keeps me sane.. accompanied by good music and mary jane.. as the pain begins to seep, my mind trickles in a drain.. washing away the heavy thoughts and the broken heart.. releasing the hate and the blame.. singing songs to keep myself tame.. with this ritual, i reclaim my creative independence.. with this artist i attendance, she looks at me to see my soul in transcendence.. slowly, this story of art begins to take shape.. this experience is more than an escape.. it is where dreams and creativity take shape.. it is where superheroes design their cape.. where love and passion dance around imagination.. this is where a poet would write a narration.. where fire and water dance in harmonious flotation.. now the pain gets my eyes in dilation.. but i know this is temporary.. for this expression of art has no expiration.. here i am ready to take the bait.. this is where i escape to less hate.. to strengthen the space where love gestates.. to have more than one reason to feel lightweight.. once in a while i find myself starting into the mirror.. looking deep within my pupils to find the meaning of my rhyme.. to find the spirit that hid with time.. do understand that these scars of art are not just for show.. they are part of the tools i use to flow.. living life each day wanting to grow.. so i implore you not to judge me till you really know; why this lifestyle thrives on being down low.. aside from the stories, these marks attack the status quo.. so there aint no way you can insult me with your stack of dough.. because these marks, these wounded stories is part of what makes me feel the glow.. so the next time you see someone with ink, dont assume you can make them feel your stink.. cause we'll be the same people who'll pull you out of your little sink.. we dont even need you to think.. all we'll do is nod, and wink..

pauldeeeeee
4apr2011