Ink etched into my skin,

Stories hidden within.

Each design, a chapter told,

Of a life that's vibrant and bold.

A permanent mark, a colorful stain,

A symbol of pleasure, a token of pain.

Each stroke, a memory to keep,

A reminder of who I am, unique.

Some may judge, some may stare,

But for me, they're a form of prayer.

A canvas of my past and present,

A map of my journey, ever present.

From a butterfly on my wrist,

To a rose on my fist,

Each tattoo holds a meaning,

A part of me, forever beaming.

Each needle, a moment frozen in time,

Each color, a rhythm of a rhyme.

They tell a story, they speak for me,

They're a piece of my identity.

So don't judge the tattoos on my body,

For they make me who I want to be.

Each mark, a part of my soul,

A reflection of my heart, whole.

For every tattoo on my skin,

Is a reminder of where I've been.

A celebration of scars and glory,

Tattoos on my body, tell my story.