She has a tattoo on her breast
Hates when you touch her nipples
Foreplay just yesterday's lies
Black underwear, her hidden disguise
No use playing the love card
That died with the last affair
Now she’s one of the free
Two people lying in bed
Exploring the no-go zones
Checking the exit
Looking backwards
He tries to show love
But stone hearts
Clothe themselves in armour
Screaming the screams, of
yesteryears
She has a tattoo on life
Stamped deep inside
That reads
Don’t break glass in emergency
Don’t resuscitate
The cold wind bit right through her
But it didn’t really matter
They were evenly matched
Well, at least for a time
It was the identifying feature
On her breast
The Tattoo..
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 1st, 2026 06:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments3
A trailer hitch and the trailer both made of steel held together by the male and female fittings. This is a hard hitting poem of reality to some extent in many relationships. A fave my friend
Life in the raw.
Naked truth
"She has a tattoo on life." Love that line. Great poem!
Got feelking.
What stayed with me most, Paul, was “She has a tattoo on life.” That shift from something physical to something deeply internal gives the poem its emotional center. Beautifully done. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
I think we all have that tattoo.
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