Stephanie (fallenangel0502) wrote in a_b_s_t_r_a_c_t,

so...i wrote a poem about  a tattoo i got on wednesday, or maybe the tattoo was about the poem.



It’s your birthday, Mother’s day, your anniversary

and Grandpa is buying you orchids.

Your frail body perks up at this bit

of life and beauty. Your favorite:

bright purple petals

with a delicate yellow center.

Grandpa goes out for a drive

and can’t remember where he lives,

his home for thirty years,

but he still remembers orchids

and your smile and

orchids and your smile.

It’s the fourth of July,

and I am being carved by needles

and dyed by purples and yellows

that mix with my blood and drip

over my pale white skin

that stretches over my ribs

that jut out because I thought

I was carrying your burden

and it filled me up.

But now, as the blood dries away

I can see I’ve been carrying

your blessing because

all I see are orchids

and your smile and

orchids and your smile. 


It’s the anniversary of your death

and I’m putting orchids on your grave

A little beauty on top of a little death.

A little life that almost fools me.

For a moment, I believe that you can

see me and hear me when I say

thank you for your sun

that’s sprouting orchids

from my side.

And I can see you

smile at the orchids and

the orchids make you smile. 


Oh and here's the tattoo it's about:
Type your cut contents here.

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