What is it about a tattoo
That I love?
The pain? Maybe.
I love the way it hurts
When it's actually something
That I want.
Or the way the needle
Touches the skin
And I become the canvas.
My body becomes the canvas
For the work of art
A display for all to see
And some to admire.
Perhaps I enjoy the way
The hand moves in a way so graceful
That the artist
Actually becomes an author.
Perhaps because the piece
Becomes a background of who I am.
And who I am is different.
Different is the same as beauty
In the eye of the beholder.
Or to those
Who only see it as more ink
On a blank piece of paper.

The man who has only one eye will not need both to see the destruction caused by the man with only one hand. And the man who is deaf will not need his ears to hear the lies coming from the man without a tongue.

Each unsettling measure of nerve that remained, shrieking, longing for acknowledgement. Dulling my senses, shrouding me placing me in a situation and a relatively deep and dark abyss where my once every joyous memory my every childhood dream, residing in an area that even I wasn't sure existed, remaining to be seen but had I journeyed long and far to find that land - My mind.

Who you were
Is not who you are.
Where you have been
Is not your destination.
Love the person you were then
But respect the person you are now.
Keep moving forward
Because time does not change direction.
If you reflect on yesterday's storm,
You won't get the chance to see
The sun come out today.
Live like your life depends on it.

On the other side of the moon 
Stars appear like they do in June 
And I know I'll be there soon 
On the other side of the moon 

On the other side of the moon 
Pretty flowers are all in bloom 
And if I could fly why then I 
Would have two footprints on the moon 

It's up above the clouds 
It's far beyond the sun 
I'll feel so high and I won't come down 
Until I've had my fun 

We'll meet up in space
They tell me it's a wonderful place 
And we'll be so happy 
That a smile never leaves our face 

On the other side of the moon 
Stars appear like they do in June 
And I know I'll be there soon 
On the other side of the moon 

On the other side of the moon 
Pretty flowers are all in bloom 
And if I could fly why then I 
Would have two footprints on the moon 

On the other side of the moon 
I know I'll be there soon

Kind stranger!
How convenient we should meet
While fate has taken matters for its own
You must seek what I have found
And you tread on familiar ground
In another world I know your face
A time before in a different place
Where I was, you were not present
And who I am, you one day will be.

Authors and junkies
Are very much alike.
We all want to reach
That certain high,
Because everything looks smaller
When you're on top of the world,
Only to be pushed over the edge.
If you take away a man's addiction,
You've taken away everything he has, You've taken the air he breathes.
All I'm looking for is my certain high,
To have a chance to breathe again.