I’m tattooing my body because I want to be cool.

I want to be recognized, I want to be in.

I need to connect with everyone else.

I need to identify, and find an identity.

Because I don’t know who I am,

But I know everyone that tattoos their body,

Seems to be in on the game that I’m not playing.

So, I’m spending $450 bucks to spell out,

In a nearly illegible and highly stylized,

Hoodland font, the name of my dead daughter.

Twelve years old, she died of cancer. I’m tattooing,

My face because I’m lonely and need attention.


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Filed under Poems

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