I carve your name into my skin, lines etching themselves in my veins,
So that you know how powerful this love can be.
Take my hand; guide me through the wasteland and into your arms,
Use that name embedded in my skin to find the heart of me.
Do you want me the ways I want you?
Let the demons come,
Let them tear us apart to teach us the wrongs of this love,
And let the ink running through my veins point us to the right.
No one said this would be easy; otherwise the prize wouldn’t be worth the win,
So for you, I will endure the pain of this game,
Hoping to come out alive, with you on my arms, stained like ink.

These thoughts are like an open book.
Ask me anything, I’m always honest with you, dear,
Just be sure you’re willing to listen to the answers I give,
For they can be brutal and unforgiving,
And just as tempting and sinful.
I know you think you know the essence that makes me who I am,
And the ink leaves trails pointing in all directions,
But that is only if you know how to read between the lines,
And darling, trying to decipher me isn’t so beautiful.

Lay down with me, watch the stars float on by through closed eyes,
Our inked skin shinning in the light of the moon,
Do you still want me now that you know just who I am?
Cause I still love you,
In all the ways that I shouldn’t, or maybe all the ways that I need to,
But you’re the high that I refuse to come down from,
The grace that I just won’t let myself give,
So I hope the name etched into my skin is to your liking,
Because they have made a home here in my veins, my heart,
And they refuse to leave without having made their mark

*Painting does not belong to me*

19 thoughts on “inked

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