Darling, do not tell me that you are more beautiful with those drawings on your skin.
You've convinced yourself that they mean so much to you, and no one can even begin to understand, but I want you to know that the real beauty of an individual is more than simply skin deep.
That is why the ink on your skin does not impress me.
Everyone has stories and scars —I just choose not to wear mine on the outside.

Face down on my friend's bed
I wait for my shoulder
to lose feeling,

Secretly hoping the pain will last a little longer,
while she drives ink into my body
over and over and over.

I hope she isn't too drunk
to make the lines straight,
because I'm tired of hearing my mother say,

"those look like the tattoos my patients get in prison"

a sentiment always met with
an exaggerated eye roll,
and a stronger desire to let my friends get drunk
and stab me with needles
over and over and over.

Love is like a tattoo;
Not just because it lasts forever.
But because it ******* stings when it starts to settle in.
And by the time you realize you don't want it anymore,
It's too late to stop.
It's sealed and bleeding.
It's with you forever.

If you don't know how to punch,
or how to have a good time,
If you can't make a decision,
you should know to flip a dime.
Cover me in tattoos,
Piercings galore,
confidence is ****,
without it you're a bore.

Collared for white collar,
To society I'm paying my dues
The Trump appointee Club Fed blues.

The beds are pretty clean and soft,
At Club Fed, they hardly cost

Shootin' shuffleboard, takin' a snooze
Just forgettin' the Club Fed blues

The **** beach aint just ahead
Club Fed just aint the Club Med

At 3-pm, it's tea and cake
Every night supper-- it's Trump steak
The cash register rings, it's all his take.

They're adding on to the Club Fed thing,
A spanking new Congressional wing

Having latte with a Trumper con
He whines,"I'm no Don,
I was just a pawn."

On the ladies side, want to meet
Lori, the College Admission cheat

No black ink pen tattoos
Just plain old Club Fed blues

Bill Barr and Rudy sit at table
Remembering when they were on cable
Just spinning another Ukrainian fable

Missing my 5-pm yardarm *****
A stiff price to pay, the Club Fed blues

When I leave it's to the Caribbean
To a fat numbered account
And I'll finally lose the Club Fed blues.

The one on her left wrist
reminds her of a family member
now long gone.
On her right forearm
a flower, because she liked how it looked.
On the back of her neck
a gecko she got in Cancun
and on her left thigh, one she'd rather forget.
None add her up or subtract
who she was or who she is.