To write love on her arms
13 November 2009
The Inspiration:
I saw an invite to an event on Facebook called: To Write Love on Her Arm. I read the details of it and was moved and felt inspired to write this:
My artistry:
She sat on the end of her bed…with the blade between fingers resting on her wrist.
She thought of the night before. Another night where she gave part of herself away…
She sat there, waiting to hear from him. He would never call. She sat there and imagined the word: USED tattooed on her wrist. And then she dug the blade in and cut…
She remembered a time walking the streets of the busy town. She recalled the flashing lights and loud music of the packed club. She reminded herself of how among all those people, she felt unnoticed. And in her mind’s eye flashed the word: LONELY on her wrist. And it hurt as the shiny blade cut through her skin…
She was in their stories. She heard their mocking laughter. She saw that they had backstabbed her. She sat in her bathroom with her tears. How could this have happened? She felt betrayed. And as she cut a line in her wrist, she dreamed the word: HURT on her arm…
She stood in the shadows of the late night in the kitchen. It was quite in her house yet that noise seemed so loud. She replayed how her parents had screamed at her earlier that day. She put her free hand on her face where he had hit her. She thought that this bottle would take the pain away. But as the blade pierced into her skin she noted that the pain had not been numbed; and in her intoxicated state she saw the word: MISUNDERSTOOD on her arm…
She tried looking into the future. She felt overwhelmed. She saw obstacles. She heard echoes from the past. Echoes that whispered doubt in her ear. She cried as she did what she knew best… the blade sliced a red line through her skin…and in delirium she noted the word: SCARED on her wrist.
She stood in front of the mirror. She hated herself. She saw that she didn’t look good in that dress. She followed the latest trend and saw she disliked her new haircut. Fashion always left her feeling empty and out of touch. She took a pill. She told a joke. She looked this way just for them. But she still felt the same within. She slashed the blade with ease and hate into her arm…and she saw the word INSECURE engraved in her wrist.
She had lost a lot of blood. She heard in a far away distance the racing siren. She heard muffled voices. In her unconsciousness she saw the words flood through her mind: USED, LONELY. HURT, MISUNDERSTOOD, SCARED, INSECURE. She stirred as she lay there.
In this moment it didn’t matter what was happening on the outside of her eyelids.
She saw these words scatter against something she could not describe: U D N R T N E D O S C D N E R… and now these letters were useless on their own. She was having a vision she had never expected. She saw a man with kind saving eyes. A kindness that the world had not given… She noted this man’s arms were wide open. He was pressed up against a weapon of torture.
She saw blood flow from his wrists where the rusty nails had pierced. As he hung there in agony, there was something mighty about this man. She then focused in on the palm of his hand and saw something she would never forget. She saw her name engraved in His hands. He smiled at her. She just knew inside that this man knew exactly how she was feeling. He then whispered in her conscience “See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” (a)
She felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulder yet even more than that. A weight had been lifted off her heart. He then gasped one final breath saying “It is finished!”
In that moment she knew those words were true. She knew that her hurt, fears and loneliness could be and would be eased and taken away…
She heard the machine that was attached to her. She heard the murmurs of those around her. She felt the softness of the hospital sheets on which she lay. She felt the brightness of the light in the room as her eyes started to flicker open. She was waking. She felt a definite new hope in her heart.
With her eyes open she looked down to her wrists. Where the scars were from the cutting, written over them she saw the word: LOVE
…To write love on her arms THE END
FOOTNOTES:
a) Isaiah 49: 16
