Tattoo
I got a tattoo but it didn’t hurt enough.
See, holding a scratching cat to my wrist is not the same as watching my daughter gasp for oxygen that never came.
Forty-five seconds of discomfort is not the same as holding it together for 20 minutes before her time of death was named.
A couple drops of blood and some redness around this letter E is not the same as knowing the first time I held my daughter was on the day she died.
So, if leaning into pain normalizes it, where do I get more? And how deep should I let it travel?
Can my tattoo seep past my skin and into my veins? And once the ink floods my heart, what remains?
If you like what you just read, please hit the ‘Recommend’ button below so that others might stumble upon this essay. For more essays like this, scroll down to follow the Human Parts collection.
