Tattoos to You... Truths to me...

Tattooed Corpse

Pierced Body..

It is not the needles that have entered my body

That define me

But the food that has entered my brain.

I sat in a chair

Awaiting for the tattooed man

To penetrate my skin

With memories,

With significance…

The art that covers my body

Should not be a reason to label me

But a reason to understand me.

Understand that every time that needle

Pierced through my skin

While ejecting master pieces,

An emotion was formed

A memory was relived.

From the hummingbird on my shoulder that

Brings me peace

And reminds me every day that I am now free to fly,

Able to spread my wings

That I am no longer being held captive

And that I should set myself free.

Or the last name of my family,

My backbone,

Written across my ribs

While filling me with strength

Reminding me that their love is unconditional

While the world’s love is simply provisional.

Or could it be the words that I live by

That are written on my shoulder blades

Revealing a simple request

“No Lies, Just Love”…

The need to be respected

The tears that I shed

This stands as a reminder

Of what love should really be.

Or could it be the tribal heart

Of my guardian angel,

My rider, My bestfriend

That I hold on my side

As a reminder that distance could not make us closer

That I love my rider to the end.

Maybe it’s the lotus

That sits flowingly upon my hip

That signifies being born again

For a lotus begins its life cycle in the dirt

And floats towards the sun

And on the water shore

To live the rest of its days.

I see my body

As an art exposition

A story for the fans to hear,

A story for my kids to tell.

It’s not just insignificant ink

But a portable gallery

Of the things that I have endured…

Tattoos to you

Truths to me.