i want another tattoo and i’m being emo about it

my skin needs to be stabbed with ink until i bleed 

stabbed in a way that will show my passions and the very reason i am alive

curved and shaded, my skin is mine it reflects the girl behind all the meat and flesh and bone

if your body is a temple why does it rot away into the dirt where the bugs eat it and you become forgotten?

my body is a temple and i’m decorating it because graffiti is fucking cool and i’m not trespassing personal property 

my skin is mine, i’ve bled from it intentionally and on accident and i am not afraid to do it again

i want the pain of payment

what’s love if not a fucking knife?