Engine oil buried deep as hate beneath my nails.
Won't scrub away
it remains like the mistakes I made.
Not always visible,
but I know it's there all the same.

Old tatt lines blasted as heart ache,
it's hard to follow the ink.
What it represented
now an obscure link
like faded love.
Though in a certain light
it don't look that bad,
or so I tell myself,
but mostly I try not to think.