Lydia Sieczkowski | Contributing Writer
A needle hums where your name once lied
Tracing over wounds that not even time can erase.
The skin, once soft, now tough and scarred
Wants to forget, yet here we are.
The ink pours deep, dark like all my thoughts,
Filling the space, where love once sought.
A heart that shattered, now in layers, concealed
Under bold lines, its ache still not healed.
What was a memory once etched in the flesh,
Now fades beneath art, a mark freshly pressed.
Each drop of color a promise to mend,
Turning the pain and sadness into something to defend.
But as the needle pierces my skin so true,
I long for your touch, for the way that you’d
Trace my body with gentle hands like you were
Mapping my soul
I want to feel your fingers glide
Like the tattoo’s ink, your warmth inside.
Your touch would soothe where the needle hurts
Turning this art into what love once was.
You’re not the first to leave a mark that I regret,
But this one’s mine, not a shadow of debt.
This tattoo is my new armor that I’ve lacked since you left.
A reminder that if we are to be, we will be again.
Until then, I’ll wear this scar proudly
With every new tattoo, I will be closer to the girl that I once knew
While learning the new girl that I am without you.
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