She wanted to remain pure, unstained, unpoked. She had toyed with getting a tattoo but realised it wasn’t individual anymore. But she was in need of validation. Was she past her peak? She’s still cool right?
The needle stuck into her skin like the scent of an old lover. It left a fizzy sensation behind. The ink spread. She kept poking, stabbing, stick n poking.
What emerged was a star.
Startled, strained by Tar, scarred, her sparkle faded.
My experience of doing a stick n poke tattoo of a star on myself. My thoughts on my first tattoo. I called my star tattoo Tar.
I will get a moon right there Where you kissed me I will pin it with needles and ink And make the stars watch As my skin shivers out of the hurt you have kept in me
I will step away and watch from a far Maybe drink more Or hold on to my guitar I will climb every roof and curse the words for being real I will hold every ocean and swallow every fear I will keep my moon right there Beneath my ear Where it can whisper and I can hear
Chattering yet still Frozen and wrapped by venom Decayed by sharp fangs
I'm a junior in HS, but I take a senior class. One of the seniors recently got a tattoo of a snake, said snake's end tail erasing around a skull. The tattoo quickly made me in a mood for a haiku. I shall end my period on haikus for now on this eery 3 stanzas