Four names...



Four names that mean the world to me.


Four names engraved on my arm so I never forget.


Four names that are made from my body. Four names. Four children. All taken away from me by my addiction.


Two names I am now able to see. They have forgiven and are proud of me.


Two names I still wait for patiently. One day they will be 18 and can find me.

This tattoo contains my memories of blurred images of children mixed with my debauchery: four faces that looked on silently, eight hands that clung on desperately, pleading hard to make me someone I could not be, a mother who was safe while they played happily.


As much as I tried to be what they wanted, I could never be.


Four children gone, taken, as no one trusted me.


A wake up call that propelled me into reality.


That dark process allowed a change in me, the becoming of a person who I strived to be.

Actions of addiction finally left me, and I am now an educated professional who grows in sobriety.


Four names, I pray, who will always remember me.


written by gail


uk

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