My tattoos & what they mean

I have eight tattoos at the moment and this is one I’ve picked at random…well actually it’s the easiest one to take a photo of with my phone as it’s on my right wrist, haha…but yeah will start with this one. I actually had this done while I was an inpatient for over two years in that private hospital I was supposed to do DBT at…I really like it but it’s actually not overly clear what it is…it is a rose but a closed one. A couple of people have thought it was a strawberry! They thought it was really nice but a really nice strawberry rather than a rose. But no it’s a rose and I must have been 20 when I got this done. I am a classic, unoriginal rose lover, and have been since I was little, I honestly adore roses. This rose is actually based on a poem I wrote about myself back in secondary school about my life but in the context of a rose. The poem is called Black Rose but as I didn’t think a black rose would be that clear either on my wrist I went for a closed red one…it does go with the poem but the middle of the poem, the black one is at the end of it! The poem isn’t good and is not my favourite or anything, but I love symbols and hidden meanings and I feel like this poem really reflected what happened to me when I was twelve even though things were leading up to it anyway for a few years beforehand.



~BLACK ROSE~ (July 2004)

I was born like any other

In soil rich with love,

Reaching out hungrily towards the sun,

Bathing myself in golden sunlight.

Suddenly winter embraced-

I felt so cold;

Lightning shredded my dreams,

Icy razors clung to my swollen bud

Which I painfully kept shut.

Bronze ribbons unfolded

And the sunshine returned,

Admiring the many fields of blushing jewels,

But I’m still asleep.

I was different;

I preferred to turn to the moon,

Only ever finding comfort in the strings of stars

That the sky always wore at night.

I’ve grown thorns and charcoal petals,

I now bleed my tears

At being a fragile, black rose

Among those of the sweetest red.

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