My skin is selfish, scarred, and flawed... My skin has become a facade. A facade hiding and dampening the most organic parts of me... Parts I want seen... Parts I want felt... But my punishment has been dealt. Dealt with deliberate destruction, signed by my hands for reduction. So cut it off for it's been hellish... As my skin has been so selfish.
I wanted the love letters carved, not delicately etched, so they could remain permanent, as scars in my flesh. I needed the words engraved, without pause or restraint, by fervent hands yearning, for where my skin lay in wait.