I am an inkspot...
Tattoos on skin/ words on a page/ images on a canvas/
/brand the mind/
Eat me, motherfuckers.
Yep, an inkspot. A fucking Rorschach test. Take your best shot.
Tattoos on my skin...
time and time again, I watched needles break the surface...
lonely footprints on the sand to show you where I've been
to remind me of what I
/cannot/
/will not/
forget
a resounding echo of events that tore my armor down
/the shearing of steel/
I felt it over and over again
So I walk around like this, wearing my self on my skin
/no mysteries here/ or so it seems
and my naked skin felt the needles of the sun and your eyes
the needles of your eyes
Blood reddens when it is touched by air, touched by eyes
inkspot, yeah...
that is me. All over up and down and around that shit/ where there is ink
you will find me.
In the light that surrounds it, in the darkess that finds your eyes
you will find me.
Words on a page
you will find me.
Words on a page
my heart in my ribcage
will not cease to beat/ no it will not cease to beat
because I found my own drummer long before I knew you
and you will not take my determination/ I will continue this dance
there is no me without my rage
there is no love without anger
there is no courage without fear
you will not take my determination to continue this dance
this dance is mine
this dance is fucking mine.
Ink and blood, they
darken when touched by eyes, when touched by understanding
words on a page
words on my lips/ your lips
stain the heart black/ the mind with black trails of trying
stumbling through a forest and losing all desire to find the trail
these tattoos remind me where I've been
and I will keep on going
trailing across pages and skin
playing marco polo with you is so much fun....
I am and have always been black to the core with love and
inky rage
Some things never change
and some things you do not try to change
for they are sacred
Yep, I am sacred
I am sacred
I am profane
pierce the skin and scrawl my name in ink
in blood
The disease we yearn for /ache for/
the disease that festers within
is what we think/feel
coursing through our veins
leaving brands and prints on our skin
is blood/ in our anger/ in our rage
is ink/ in our anger/ on the page
is me/ in your heart
and on this page
I am dark and I am spreading
I am spilled from the well of this vast universe of emotion and expression
I am running down out of the corners of your mouth
dripping down your chin
and you thought you had enough of me but here I am again
the inkwell spilled and I will stain the earth
with my meaningless excesses
please, let this love be the place where my meaningless excesses take form
where light and darkness turn shadows into beauty
inkspots
tattoos
MILEMARKERS
words on a page
meaningless excesses
turn shadows and light into beauty
make my existence have meaning
a purpose
when there is a mirror that shows the fingerprints of a woman
whose darkness is an art
soak up my meaningless excesses, please
and restore them softly to meaning again
