Tatted Up Ugly

I cant look in the mirror.

Not today.
Nor tomorrow.
Maybe the day after that,
Or sumtime next week.
But right now,
I don’t need to see
A reflection.
Because the image staring back
Has an “I told u so” look.
She looks just like my momma too.
I don’t wanna see my lessons
Staring back at me like a fool.
And plus when ever I try to take a peek.
I’m horrified n sickened
By all of what I see.

All those ugly tattoos
Etched across my face,
Accidentally inked upon my skin



And I automatically hear
In the background music
Almost subliminally,
You fail.
I know they aren’t removable.
They permanent,
There forever.
Cause even tho they’re on me,
They don’t belong to me.
Just left there by another.
Aint goin nowhere,
I remember when I got them
Each n every last
I thought the shit was all in fun.
But with each consecutive mistake I made
Quickly things got real serious.
I still regret
Ever being so curious.
Almost like a sick
Universal trick.
And thinking on it I can see
How easily I became delirious
At the addictive qualities
Of a needle prick.

I have a crisp, vivid,
Everlasting image
Of the artwork
Embedded in my mind.
So I don’t need to look in the mirror,
Prolly again for quite sumtime.
Cause I cant forget for a moment
How they look on my face.
So if I do happen to,
By chance,
Feel tempted to take a glance
I quickly turn away
For a try another day.
Otherwise I may begin to weep
Inevitably drawn into a restless sleep
From grieving so
Unbelievably deep
At the loss
Of a natural beauty.
And a once innate purity.
How freely I gave my soul away.
And yet how little was paid,
Despite such a great cost.



~ by butrfly on December 10, 2009.

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