I have craved their ink on my fingers.

For as long as I have been aware of tattoos, I have craved their ink on my fingers.
Always something to fear they would tell me ‘You can’t be successful and have hand tattoos. You will never be able to work in a ‘real’ job. What will people think?’.
For years I believed them. Until suddenly it clicked.
I refuse to live my life, this one short, fleeting, incredible life, in fear.
Who cares what people think.
I do not know how long I will call this body home. I do not know if I will ever see my hair turn grey, or my skin wrinkle. For I have loved many who will now never grow old.
So for while I inhabit this earth, in this body, I will be me. I will no longer deny the urgings of my soul because of fear.
I refuse to live within the lines of others expectations of how I should ‘behave’.
I will no longer allow my wings to be clipped from fear.
All that I am, and all I will ever become is love. And that would never be altered by some black ink.