tat, words

i need new ink

been two years and the feeling is creeping into me

the need for the needles to rapidly jam another design from my soul into my flesh

the constant him if the motor

the feeling of a thousand nettles

the rattle and shake

the divine pain

the glorious blood and black spillover

i need to feel it

to feel alive

soon

very soon i will sit in that chair and become transitive art again

paint the outer to represent the inner

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