Heart tattoos mark the times of heartbreak and forgiveness.
One floats on the waves of the sleeve that matches his.
One is being sewn back together with swallows pulling the strings.
One has roses growing through it, simultaneously piercing and grounding. At the top of sleeve that matches his, his name unfurls.
I am his.
His body is a map revealing the loves in his life.
Ghouls and creatures, nintendo, muppets, and me.
My face looks out from the woman on his sleeve.
My initial is on his ring finger.
My name burns in the flames of the sacred heart on his chest.
He is mine.
On and on...or so I believed.
3/6/16
He is no longer mine
What I thought was for always was "until"
His name on my arm will never let me forget.
