#lifemetaphor
Please do not judge me for my ink
before you comment stop and think
The warmth of the person lies inside
my inks my expression and I wear it with pride
My tattoos are my art my stories they do tell
No corruption carved they just coat my outer shell
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
He traced my limits with dripping fate,
A careless god with a water-drawn gate.
I ran in circles—dry shrinking fast,
Each lap a loop, a haunted past.
The lines closed in, the world grew tight,
No sky above, no edge in sight.
Till even breath became a crime,
And drowning felt like passing time.
But something wild refused to die,
Not strength—just rage at a soaking lie.
I kicked the flood, broke rules of grace,
And carved my way through scattered space.
Now here I stand, soaked to skin,
On dry land, breathing in—
Like I was never trapped at all,
Like the flood was just a small downfall
Apr 7, 2025
Apr 7, 2025 at 1:24 PM UTC