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muteD Mar 2020
Words hurt
But yours shouldn’t have to.
The things you say stick to me like a
Tattoo.
I’m a vacuum.
I **** up all the things you say
and it just replays.
You say
things you think you have to say
in ways
that are better left unsaid.
Too bad you can’t UnSay
the things you said
even though I know
you never would.

How come
it is always the ones we hold closest
that is gifted
with the blueprint
of our defeat?
a way to have us
beaten, broken hearted
and down
on both knees.

How is this honest?
How are we fair?
To be clear,
as you sleep
without fear
I sit here and think.
If you had a snore for every tear I’ve shed,
you might never wake up.
Written : 3/4/20
Lucas Scott Mar 2020
Ink
I want to be
   your tattoo
              skin deep and meaningful
          a complicated design
                     of interconnecting lines
      forming an image
a symbol
                       expressing an intimate
          part of
you

I want to be
        what you need
passionate red
        for a setting sunset
calming blue
        for a starry night
invigorating yellow
        for a vibrant sunflower
darkest black
        for the wisest quote
always moving with you
        when you dance
                when you laugh
                        when you cry

But if regret comes to be

I want to be
                        your mistake
                        covered up
                        a hidden memoir
             of your past
                                           guiding your future
                          an ink-stained lesson
                          lingering curse
                     but I will still be
          part of
you
Michael Stefan Feb 2020
A griffon fights leviathan upon my left forearm
As phoenix rises underneath, regal rebirth from the war

Clouds adorn my bicep
Created as a place to play
For curious birds drawn out of bones;
Symbols of life's pain

A charm is etched into my chest
To ward away the wickedness,
That surrounds me on my path

And cheaply done tribal
on my right shoulder,
A remnant to teenage aftermath

A mural of light and dark is juxtaposed
From left to right upon my back
Serves me as a guiding light
And reminds me of my proper track

Art is created of many forms
And each of their beauties is akin
I am living cautionary tale
And a gorgeous canvas made of skin
Every scar tells a story, every tattoo is a piece, and we are all artwork.  Even if tattoos aren't your style, keep creating art of all kinds.  And take a minute to think about what each person's art means to them.  Always support your brethren artists.
Rebecca Jan 2020
She covers her scars with ink filled flowers.
Patches of tiny weeds growing through the cracks of her body.
She hopes to one day be covered so society doesn't see her past mistakes.
Her mother always told her that the best art appeared through
disaster and heartbreak.
Fast forward 60 years and her mother was right.
She's the artwork her mother always said she would be.
She finally
Ever bloomed.
Rebecca Feb 2020
I am determined to cover the scars riddling my body with the sweet black ink.
To cover the once red oozing cracks and burn marks with
blooming flowers and healing gardens.
Ink gardens filled with love and empowerment.
To let the flowers bloom from the cracks of the hurt
She Writes Feb 2020
when they ask me why i choose
to cover my body in pretty tattoos

I tell them it is to canvas the scars
from others attempting to mar

to wear my afflictions as a badge of honor
reminding myself that I am stronger

to show the world pain can be beautiful
that I am here, and I am unmovable
zxndrew Jan 2020
When I first met you, your voice tattooed a chain around my heart.
The more I saw you the tighter it got.
The ink slowly got darker and your vice around me only grew stronger.
Karambitties Jan 2020
I want a friend to give me
a piece of them
sew their soul into my skin,
so I never have to be alone again.
But a piece of heart is a lot to ask.
Maybe I wouldn't be wanting so bad if I didn't hand out the fragments of my heart like a hot mixtape
on slate corners of suburban streets,
Peddling my soul to every woman who offered a passing smile.
Maybe I should slow down and try to love myself for a little while but dealers know you don't get high on your own supply, and baby
love is a drug.
I didn't know I could be addicted to pin ******. Imagery laced with pain and truth, constant reminders of rebel youth. I'll wear them proud for now because "it won't be long till I belong, without all this unlucky skin."
With reference to Shakey graves.
Madison Greene Jan 2020
press your tattoos against me
until they rub off on my skin
we have built something bigger than this sadness
drink me in like a well aged bottle of cabernet
you’re my favorite escape from the madness
Anonymistress Dec 2019
Maybe one day, the right man will come along and read all the quotes encrypted on your body. And he will inquire the truths hidden beneath each designation. Only then will he truly know you. Only then will he truly understand.
Every mark has a story to tell. No one has heard them all, but you.
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