The ink in my skin is like blood in my veins.  I want more. 

I want to engrave emotions in my flesh. 
I want my feelings to be permanent, my motivations eternal. 
I want the slightest facet of my being to be visible to everyone. 
I don’t want to hide. 

I can find peace in seeing the ever present symbols, and soon words. 
I can roll them over in my mind and in my eyes. 
I can feel them under the slightest layer of skin, and in the blood I bleed.  They are as much a part of me as anything else,

Like carvings in the rocks for people ages away to interpret.
Like the marks in the sand that the waves can’t erase.
Like the kisses you left on my lips.
Like the scratches you left on my skin.
Like the memories you left in my mind.
Like the bandages you left on my heart.


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