“He wasn’t even your brother”
“Why the **** would you want a tattoo?”
“You know that ****’s permanent right?”
I don’t want a tattoo
I want way more than a tattoo
I want people to see it and ask who he was
And I want to say he was the little brother I never had
Until he became the little brother I had for only 7 years
I want my eyes to fill up with tears
I want the world to know that pain is temporary when you shove a needle inside of you
But its not temporary when you lose someone who was a part of you
That **** lasts forever
It will last forever in my brain
It will last forever in my heart
Is it so bad that I want it to last forever on my skin
That pain in my heart that pain in my brain that's the forever I’m scared of
That's the forever I don’t want to have
I crave the forever of this aching ink stain
It's a stain that has been in my brain for four years now
If you asked me I couldn’t even tell you HOW I’ve lived these one thousand four hundred sixty one days
Without him the world quickly turned grey
The thorns overpowered the beauty of the flowers
The shade got in the way
The rain burnt out the fire of the sun
Where Weezer used to play
The moments became pictures
The pictures became memories
The memories became moments I took for granted
And it took four years but the picture frames eventually fell slanted
These pictures were handed and planted on this wall just to become slanted
These pictures of the miracle that ran out of miracles at only 10 years old
I was 13 watching his body go cold
You think I’m too young to put some ink on my skin
You think I’m too young to be smelling like gin
But am I too young to be dying?
I close my eyes every winter just to see miracle boy lying while my best friend is crying over his miracle powered body
I see others tears drip down his miracle bald head
I see that rubber tube giving him air
But he’s already dead
You ******* fools you thought air could bring him back to life
He breathes miracles *******!
He lived on prayers
He never ****** in your airborn *******!
I can’t stop staring at that little chair where he used to sit
It’s been 4 years no one can move it
It weighs 2 pounds but the memories are a ton
We just look at it cause he was the only one
That could make something special by loving it
He was the only one worthy of the **** that he loved
He was ******* miracle boy how hard is that to understand
I want everyone to know his life like the back of their hand
I want a tattoo at 17 somehow I’m sick in the head
But 3 years is old enough to be sick and 10 is old enough to be dead
I write this **** down and realize this is what I should have said
Not “oh yea you’re totally right I’m an idiot sorry”
SORRY that this time I’m not throwing my opinions AWAY to be agreeable because november 29th marks the DAY my brother died in front of my eyes
Try to tell me he’s not my brother you’re full of ******* lies
Id tattoo MF in the center of my face
He was my brother and he can’t be replaced
By this little trace of permanent ink
But maybe if it’s there I’ll finally be able to THINK about something happier than watching miracles fall 6 feet under
During these winter months of depressing rain and scarring thunder
Ill know I’ve got bad memories on my mind but good ones on my skin
And I can sleep with a little pain on the wound but no more pain within
With this little symbol of love
Ill be spreading his story till the day I die
Like hell I want the people I love to be on earth
But miracle boy belongs in the sky.

I left a permanent mark on my skin. Again.

I tell myself I'll never regret that. Because in that moment it's what I needed and wanted.

It's my constant reminder that when I look down at my body, I see what I've been through, and where I'm heading.

I treat my skin as my own road map.

If someone were to undress me and lay me down
I would have them trace my skin
slowly working their way around my body
only to stop at every heartbreak and life lesson

The faded ink would give away its time frame
creating a story that I get to claim as my own

At that point
not only would I be naked to the eye
but I would be completely vulnerable
as if I'm peeling back layers of my own skin
opening up to my insides
exposing my thoughts throughout the years.

impermanent tattoos
decorate my skin
words
in your handwriting
adorn my arms
filling up the blank spaces
and caressing my wrists
they bring back memories
a fleeting laugh
discrete humor
the clicking of a pen
and being close enough
to hear you breathe
the warmth of your hand
pressed against my arm
as you look up at me
mirth in your eyes
and we silently laugh
at what you've written on me this time
I adore these memories
treasure them
with a sense of euphoria
oh,
how sad it will be
to wash off these impermanent tattoos

To my body that I desperately wanted to disappear
That I tried to shrink
That I yearned to transform into an impossible weight

To my body that I refused to call home
That I hated more than I used to hate the color yellow
That I wanted to get rid of

To my body that made me feel like I was never enough
That kept me alive, even though I wanted so badly for it to die
That I have covered in scars and tattoos in hopes of making it more beautiful

To my body that I am trying to ****—
I am sorry.
I am sorry for not loving you as I now love the color yellow
I am sorry for trying to make you disappear
I am sorry for making you scarred
I am sorry for the pain I have put you through
I am sorry for the tears you have shed over how you appeared in the mirror
I am sorry for trying to bury you away deep into the earth rather than helping you thrive on the face of it
I am sorry for waiting this long to say--I am sorry.

Under my Jean folds
There lies a world of art
An octopus and a ghost under the calf
The front harbours an alien
Craving validation
And to be  more than just a figure head
Mocked by the words on his shoulder
And his challenger to the right
His fight will be permanent
Staking claim to the land he occupies
Blank spaces are new territories to be claimed
And named
After the Victors of a minor sting

You paint flowering tattoos
over your regretted scars
As you appeal to repent
And you reject your last muse

I know you can hear it
Screaming not to go away
But there is another pull
That makes you a hypocrite

You drag your useless body
Toward a faux sun that doesn’t burn
Leading you into a trap
That no one would see clearly

Perhaps your blood won’t flow
But there is a brokenness there
Which acts as a barrier
To seal your soul far below

The marks on your body flare
Into a focused beacon
Drawing the wrong attention
And show your lively despair

Delicacies on your skin
Brought to you by the unknown
When you thought your strength was lost
so; take hold of power within

Yet still you cast them away
the safety of the shadows
Can’t begin to help you now
The muse is not bound to obey

So lift yourself together
As one can’t hope to exist
Separate from mind or body
And use your scars as your tether

Under a genuine star
You will find solace within
As your soul begins to blend
you will find out who you are