dancing ribbons .

sometimes when i stare at my tattoo , i wonder what i truly did to myself .
but then it hits me .

everytime my pupils gaze over my wrist, my mind is rushed to the hospital room .
my mind is rushed to radiation treatment rooms .
my mind is rushed to memories & thoughts .
my mind is rushed to that wednesday of 06 . the septembers of all septembers .

my mother always told me, "dont lose who you are" .
for years, i tried to remain exactly the same . but as my prom came and went . my boyfriend came and went . my brother got taller . my realities got bigger . as the seasons changed . . . so did i . change is inevitable . but my tattoo is permanent . my soul is permanent . the fundamentals are instilled . 'who i am' is planted & can never be lost .

my wrists are the same things that are raised with my fists .
my wrists, the skin that is inked with the constant reminder of embracing each day .
as i write my papers, im reminded .
when i get dressed, im reminded .
when i raise my hand in class, im reminded .

but more importantly, when i live ... people are enlightened . moving through my everyday, one more person gets to know that breast cancer is real . that early detection is real. that courage is real . if you pick nothing up from me, take my wrists as a parting gift .