Why Him?
I feel compelled to write about my new tattoo, especially because a couple reactions were, “why him?” Follow me on a short but wonderful journey of self discovery and mild ink addiction.

Words bring forward stars to forge a world from the ink, breathe, your heart will write.
I feel compelled to write about my new tattoo, especially because a couple reactions were, “why him?” Follow me on a short but wonderful journey of self discovery and mild ink addiction.
A gentle caress from familiar fingertips
a longing to be wrapped up,
completely surrendering
to a past intoxication.
It finally happened; the girl’s gone mad.
It took one moment, took all that she had,
and amid the sunken stars that fell from the sky,
you can sift through them, find reasons to cry.
It has been years since I knew who I was.
What I stood for,
and now that I fall, I believe no longer.
I protect no one
Push through this skin
and paint a picture.
Finger painting
with blood.
It was all a young girl knew.
It itches and burns
to crack open and smell the blood, wasn’t the intention.
Growing raw against silk sheets, I couldn’t fix it.