Work Text:
It's a constant reminder,
sitting directly on your wrist,
painted beautifully over your veins.
She drew this.
It was such a beautiful design,
you had to put it there,
had to have it ingrained in your skin.
So you did.
You wonder if you hadn't gotten it,
if you'd still be friends.
That maybe this was the last straw,
and you gave her a reason to leave.
She said it wasn't you, it was her,
the cliche line that's used to soften the blow.
It didn't soften it.
When she left,
she took your safety with her,
your shoulder to cry on,
your place to turn to,
she took it all with her and didn't look back.
So wouldn't it make sense to take your last reminder of her?
To take the tattoo so elegantly drawn on your wrist,
with the words she always wanted you to believe.
"You are loved".
You want to give it to her,
to carve it off your skin and seal it in an envelope.
Maybe you'll send it.
Maybe you'll keep it with you as you pass away.
After all, it's the last piece you have of her.