INK

Lines drawn upon my skin
Stories of life they tell
Artfully placed
Color stark against alabaster
Some call them sacrilege
Understanding them not
Destroying temples we live in
I call them stained glass
Some call them ugly and gross
How is that art?
I call them beautiful
Expression of self
you don’t want to hear my story
Don’t listen
you don’t want to see art
Don’t look
But Don’t judge my Ink

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