Tattoo

They aren’t mere marks,
It was something  special she wore,
Though others took it in different ways;
It didn’t matter as she was the master of her own soul.

They aren’t mere marks,
It was the bond they shared,
Twinning always;
Even pain couldn’t part their ways.

They aren’t mere marks,
It was her passion that shone,
Her undeniable love;
Towards the work she owned.

They aren’t mere marks,
It was the cruelty of the world,
Forced her to retort to ways;
Just to hide her bruises.

They aren’t mere marks,
It was the pressure of undesirable culture,
Unwanted ancestral laws;
Marked the end of her free days.

They aren’t mere marks,
It was more than what met the eyes,
Drooling over it wasn’t the only thought;
But it encapsulated her life.

They aren’t mere marks,
It was the freedom she wanted,
That just took the form of paintings;
With her body as a canvas.

-Pearl Pullan

Artwork: @prettykindadirtymess (Jay)

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