I suck in a breath,
But these marks, these black marks
Covering my skin, don't move.
Sleeves of patterns,
Thick lines, shapes and swirls
Moons, suns and stars,
They're etched in my skin
Forever and more.
They cover silvery thin scars,
Winding around and around my arms,
I choose not to remember those,
To not keep bad memories close to my veins,
I have chosen to let them go, not carry them with me.
So instead of watching these lines permanently stain my skin,
I decide to turn them into something worth having.
I decide for myself what lies on my skin, and
I decide that I don't care what people think,
I'll know why my flesh bears tattoos.