Because I have been tattooed
from the beginning,
you can wash your hands of me,
but the stain on my heart remains.
I have tried to scrub it clean,
yet your ink has written
an indelible story into my skin.
It will not fade.
The detergent of time
only makes your lines more distinct
against a bleached background,
and laser treatments are worthless.
They cannot erase my memories.
I have no choice.
Come back and finish
what you began.
Come fill in the shadows
of my future.
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