my skin is made of ink and bone

My skin is made of ink and bone,
Covered in ivory, laced in a poison of steel and grace,
Ready to feel and yell, to know what it means to be alive.|
Let me tell my story, as I bleed it onto the pages,
Scattered and torn but still legible to the right pair of eyes.
Let me know that it’s okay to feel things like rage and sorrow and pity,
Let my skin be torn and sown, ripped apart and mended all at the touch of another.

After everything, emotions drawn and torn from me in a silent cry
Let me rest easy in the darkness I’ve created.
No smothering, no chaos, just the thoughts I’ve tried to run from, and me.
Let me face them head on,
Give me the strength to change them and the voices that scream at me from inside.
Only then will I split and change, forming a new version better than I am now,
Buried in the ashes of the fallen monsters and shrapnel
Pray you find me among the rubble.

My skin is made of ink and bone,
Sharp and permanent, forever haunting,
Mixed with the chaos of beauty and the saving grace of Lucifer.
Let me show you what it means to be alive,
For I have felt it all within my emotions and the pages I’ve bled into.
Powerful words stolen from a hollow prayer,
Your lips lingering, kissing the scars you’ve left deep in my skin.
Know that you created a beautiful tragedy,
And she will forever be in your debt,
My skin is made of ink and bone,
Covered in ivory, laced in a poison of steel and grace,
She has been through hell and back with me, clinging to all the damage and
magnificence life has already offered.

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11 thoughts on “my skin is made of ink and bone

  1. blindzanygirl says:

    Oh WOW. What an amazing poem. Deep does not describe it. It dives deep, feels the pain, the anfst, andbteanscends. I feel the pain. But I feel the strength. Amazing poem. Thankyou so much

    Liked by 1 person

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