Sunny

Black on white and ink in skin

To burst upon the elbow.

Your face exists in photographs,

Your name upon my elbow.

 

Skittles and oreos, now on the floor

Brown stain still sits in rug.

You never yelled or raised your voice,

I threw up, I got a hug?

 

You’re not gone, you’re not dead,

But time is running out.

I want to stop your aging years,

“Don’t die,” I want to shout.

 

The sting, the numbness, I endured,

To make you permanent.

A hundred dollars is much to little,

For what the ink really meant.

 

Mom and Dad, did not approve,

Your brother especially.

They felt I left them off my frame,

The heart is where they’ll be.

 

To touch and burn the human flesh,

Is a sacrifice to me.

To show my respect and dying love,

So that you will see.

 

You’ve shaped and guided my short life,

From birth to this very day.

Murphy died I didn’t know,

How she use to play.

 

Don’t change, don’t stop, I miss you babe,

Your love I want to take.

If you let up, or ever stop;

The ink is a mistake.