when you clawed at my skin
and tore apart my flesh like
an animal,
like your eyes had never manifested in the pores before
you tattooed my skin with a wound.
the truth is
my body is a canvas for the art of the wounds you create
and it's not the blood that scares me
it's the ***** of the needle
to sew me together
again.

new shoes and late night blues
drinking ***** listening to views
getting 'dude' as a tattoo
i'm never getting over u

middle of may and it's all the same
life's a game that i can't play
i'm runnin' late at airport gates
i never thought i'd miss my plane

Why won’t you accept who I am
It’s like my whole existence is a sham
I’m told about who I used to be
What if that other me was never even really me
And what if I said I’ve changed
What if I’ve grown up and rearranged.
Sure I still love to bake and read
But I’m not the same, let me grow I plead.
I’m an artist. But to what extent.
I can be creative but I should have your consent.
I can draw and be wild
But in your eyes I am still I child.
I want my body as my canvas, to hold the things I love.
But it’s like I am a bandit, one you want rid of.
I want to color my hair to change with the wind.
But you’re inclined to remind me that it’s “just not me”
I never stopped being me don’t you see.
It’s how the me I am should be.
Don’t hold me back
I might draw back.
And sink into my void.
All because you destroyed.
Your wild blue eyed bird

I get tattoos because there is something about the blood that spills from my skin and the immense pain I feel from the needle. The way the tattoo artist uses their hands and whole body to permanently stain my body forever. It's quite neurotic, the sound the tattoo gun makes, that turns me on in a way I can't describe.

Tattoo pretty


Make me pretty, pierce my skin;
Push the needle deep inside.
Make me happy, picture perfect;
Picture this until the day that I die.


Symbolize the latest trend.
Oh my God it looks so cool!
Draw your vision upon my chest;
Make me another painted fool.


Tattoo pretty, picture perfect.
Ok, do it; I shall have no regrets.
Give me pain and a permanent imprint.
I should have done this with a straight head.


Pass me a joint so I don’t feel it.
I don’t know why some people like pain.
I just want a pretty picture,
Permanently placed upon my skin.


Oh, it must be on my arm, so everyone can see it!
Now I need to buy some clothes, so I can emphasize it.
Now all I need is a neon light and to speak a little louder!
I hope they hear me and ask me about it;
I’d hate it if they didn’t bother.


What if they don’t notice it?
What if they don’t notice me?
What if I’ve made a huge mistake?
Why should I be concerned?  
It’s not like I can do anything.


Ok, I’m now so tattoo pretty;
I have a symbol on my arm.
I don’t know what the Chinese symbol means,
But I think it does look really cool.


What next?  What can I put on my leg?
What about after that?  Maybe one on my chest?
Oh and I must get my back covered with something;
Oh that would look so cool on my neck.


I like that one she’s got on her hand,
I’d like to have that, on the side of my head.
I’d love it if I completely covered in tattoos.
Tattoo pretty died, unrecognizable to her kids.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

“He wasn’t even your brother”
“Why the **** would you want a tattoo?”
“You know that ****’s permanent right?”
I don’t want a tattoo
I want way more than a tattoo
I want people to see it and ask who he was
And I want to say he was the little brother I never had
Until he became the little brother I had for only 7 years
I want my eyes to fill up with tears
I want the world to know that pain is temporary when you shove a needle inside of you
But its not temporary when you lose someone who was a part of you
That **** lasts forever
It will last forever in my brain
It will last forever in my heart
Is it so bad that I want it to last forever on my skin
That pain in my heart that pain in my brain that's the forever I’m scared of
That's the forever I don’t want to have
I crave the forever of this aching ink stain
It's a stain that has been in my brain for four years now
If you asked me I couldn’t even tell you HOW I’ve lived these one thousand four hundred sixty one days
Without him the world quickly turned grey
The thorns overpowered the beauty of the flowers
The shade got in the way
The rain burnt out the fire of the sun
Where Weezer used to play
The moments became pictures
The pictures became memories
The memories became moments I took for granted
And it took four years but the picture frames eventually fell slanted
These pictures were handed and planted on this wall just to become slanted
These pictures of the miracle that ran out of miracles at only 10 years old
I was 13 watching his body go cold
You think I’m too young to put some ink on my skin
You think I’m too young to be smelling like gin
But am I too young to be dying?
I close my eyes every winter just to see miracle boy lying while my best friend is crying over his miracle powered body
I see others tears drip down his miracle bald head
I see that rubber tube giving him air
But he’s already dead
You ******* fools you thought air could bring him back to life
He breathes miracles *******!
He lived on prayers
He never ****** in your airborn *******!
I can’t stop staring at that little chair where he used to sit
It’s been 4 years no one can move it
It weighs 2 pounds but the memories are a ton
We just look at it cause he was the only one
That could make something special by loving it
He was the only one worthy of the **** that he loved
He was ******* miracle boy how hard is that to understand
I want everyone to know his life like the back of their hand
I want a tattoo at 17 somehow I’m sick in the head
But 3 years is old enough to be sick and 10 is old enough to be dead
I write this **** down and realize this is what I should have said
Not “oh yea you’re totally right I’m an idiot sorry”
SORRY that this time I’m not throwing my opinions AWAY to be agreeable because november 29th marks the DAY my brother died in front of my eyes
Try to tell me he’s not my brother you’re full of ******* lies
Id tattoo MF in the center of my face
He was my brother and he can’t be replaced
By this little trace of permanent ink
But maybe if it’s there I’ll finally be able to THINK about something happier than watching miracles fall 6 feet under
During these winter months of depressing rain and scarring thunder
Ill know I’ve got bad memories on my mind but good ones on my skin
And I can sleep with a little pain on the wound but no more pain within
With this little symbol of love
Ill be spreading his story till the day I die
Like hell I want the people I love to be on earth
But miracle boy belongs in the sky.