Arm Art.

Arm Art.

When I was young, I was good at art.

Spent a while practising the craft.

With the moonlight through the window.

I would rest my arm on the pillow.

With a sharp compass point in hand.

I would start etching out my plan.

At first the gentle mark on the skin.

Then I would let the drawing begin.

What I would cut could be anything.

Sometimes it was stupid little things.

Could be the latest girlfriend’s name.

Maybe a noughts and crosses’ game.

Outline done when happy with everything.

Then I would push the compass further in.

Watching as my young arms slowly bled.

Dying all my artwork a nice bright red.

Seeing the blood flow was a slow release.

It kind of brought me a little inner peace.

The deep cuts never caused me much pain.

However, many times I did it over again.

At the time I felt it was setting myself free.

Yet all these years later.

The scars and the memories are still with me.

Tobani May 2025.