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Description
there are six white lines
on my upper left arm. i wrote
them there in red ink with
a black piece of silver steel.
they talk to me sometimes
and they tell me that they
spell out your name. i am
not surprised. because after
all, they owe their existence
to you and your uncanny
ability to leave and to make
me cry.

i had not written on myself
in red for nearly six months
because i knew how unhappy
it made you. but then you left
and i needed something warm
to fill in the gap so i decided that
drawing lines of red fire above
my elbow would fun. and pretty.
so pretty. but mostly, it made me
smile because i knew you wouldn’t
like it. you never did like it when
your belongings got damaged.

Description
there are six white lines
on my upper left arm. i wrote
them there in red ink with
a black piece of silver steel.
they talk to me sometimes
and they tell me that they
spell out your name. i am
not surprised. because after
all, they owe their existence
to you and your uncanny
ability to leave and to make
me cry.

i had not written on myself
in red for nearly six months
because i knew how unhappy
it made you. but then you left
and i needed something warm
to fill in the gap so i decided that
drawing lines of red fire above
my elbow would fun. and pretty.
so pretty. but mostly, it made me
smile because i knew you wouldn’t
like it. you never did like it when
your belongings got damaged.