The only tattoos l've ever wanted were words.
It's like speaking them isn't enough, it's not permanent enough.
Words spoken are temporary, forgotten over time.
I don't want to forget the sentences that I have felt so deeply in my soul.
I will not sacrifice them to memory and age.
I need them etched into the only body I will ever own.
For people to see the words on my skin and understand how deeply they reflect the idea of me—of who I am and who l will forever be.
No symbol, no picture, will ever be able to replicate the full identity of a person. Only words come close.
And even then, is there enough skin on my body to portray the full concept of my existence?
How many words would it take to strip down who I am into neat little sentences?
I guess there are parts of me that I wouldn't want tattooed though,
or maybe I just haven't found the words that reflect them yet.
Maybe the truest parts of me are the ones that will never fit on skin.