"Hell Is On My Arm"

Hell is on my arm

The raised skin burns against the fabric

That blocks the world from viewing

The angry, torn skin that lays in wake

Of the glinting metal of the blade

That rests firmly in my hand

The blood glinting with the metal

Telling its travels quietly.

The red letters that adorn my skin

Reminding me of the life I live

The past I had

And the future that awaits me

My art is what I leave

Hell is on my arm

My masterpiece

Paid in my blood