8. Skin In Mine
I wake in the dark and the body remembers.
Not who I was—but where I was tender.
They took my body like it was theirs to define—
But every line I ink now says: this skin is mine.
[VERSE 1]
Didn't report what they did in the dark—
I mapped the touches they branded like marks.
Tattoo blackout lines, let the silence shout.
Etched my story in skin, I wear it out loud.
Stacked black where the bruises bloomed,
Now it's armor, not a wound.
Hated this body—raped and used already,
Tipping point hit, artist drew the lines steady.
Nobody asked—so I answered in skin.
No thief in the night, no break back in.
Used to flinch at hands, now I sit with the sting,
Let the needle speak what I couldn't bring.
This pain draws maps where the past once climbed,
"Does it hurt?" — yes, but it heals in time.
This pain brings me back — that ache still stalks.
Didn't get justice — so the needle talks.
[PRE-CHORUS]
Hyper-vigilance scans the room; I don't float away.
The damage was done but I mark my way.
I tattoo silence where the flashbacks scream.
Skin is mine—I black out the bad dreams.
Sirens in my blood, echoes in my skull.
The needle is honest, and I'm in control.
Trauma's a loop that my brain can't skip,
So I dip my truth in a needle's tip.
[CHORUS]
Skin is mine—the past doesn't script me.
I wake with a ghost where my breath should be.
Skin is mine—cologne ghost clings; green soap stings,
Flashbacks grip, but I breathe like a fighter.
Skin is mine—I'm the ghost's ghostwriter.
They wrote in bruises—I rewrote the line.
Skin is mine—Trauma's a house where the mirrors lie.
Skin is mine—I black out the frame where I used to cry.
[VERSE 2]
Curl my toes when the needle penetrates.
My body's an archive—survived, reclaim the gate.
Grip, then release—needle hums with a holy spin.
Pain slips in clean—it's sharp, but I let it begin.
Unchosen pain tried to make me hide,
Chosen pain trains me to stay inside.
PTSD wakes me early—tight chest, no plan.
Tattoo waits for my "yes," then opens its hand.
This pain has edges—it doesn't pretend.
This time, the ache arrives as a friend.
If pain comes with choice, the body relearns
That safety is something the nervous system earns.
Trauma made me drift—now I ink with conviction.
Before: hands took. Now: gloves, ask—jurisdiction.
Boundaries beat the gaze—blackout encryption.
Needle is ritual. Truth traced in dermis, not their fiction.
[CHORUS]
Skin is mine—the past doesn't script me.
I wake with a ghost where my breath should be.
Skin is mine—cologne ghost clings; green soap stings,
Flashbacks grip, but I breathe like a fighter.
Skin is mine—I'm the ghost's ghostwriter.
They wrote in bruises—I rewrote the line.
Skin is mine—Trauma's a house where the mirrors lie.
Skin is mine—I black out the frame where I used to cry.
[VERSE 3]
I didn't pick that night, but I pick this sting—
"Does it hurt?" Yeah. But it doesn't steal anything.
PTSD wired like a trip-line spine,
But I sit for the buzz and I breathe this time.
Yes, it bleeds red, but it brings me alive,
Anchors me back to edges where I survived.
When "hurt" is consent, every nerve re-learns,
How pain can rebuild and joy can return.
Each pass of the needle unspools the fight—
I black out the scene so I sleep at night.
My skin's not a page they can underline—
No highlight reel. No access. This skin is mine.
"Does it hurt?" — Hell yeah, but it holds me still.
It reminds me I'm more than the hurt I feel.
This sting's a tether, not a threat in disguise,
I stay in my body when the needle replies.
[CHORUS]
Skin is mine—the past doesn't script me.
I wake with a ghost where my breath should be.
Skin is mine—cologne ghost clings; green soap stings,
Flashbacks grip, but I breathe like a fighter.
Skin is mine—I'm the ghost's ghostwriter.
They wrote in bruises—I rewrote the line.
Skin is mine—Trauma's a house where the mirrors lie.
Skin is mine—I black out the frame where I used to cry.
[OUTRO]
I didn't get to choose what carved me first.
But I choose what stays. I choose what hurts.
Ghosts don't own me. The mirror's mine.
And every mark says: This body's by design.
"Does it hurt?"
Yeah. And I stay.
This skin is mine.
