The Scream by Edward Munch

I just love this painting! It could mean so many things, but yet makes me think of a migraine headache.

Amy Brown fairy

One of my favorite artists, Amy Brown, she did the actual artwork not the tattoo.  Whoever the tattooist was did a great job as well.

The Seeker of Truth by E. E. Cummings

seeker of truth

follow no path
all paths lead where

truth is here

This poem is beautifully short and to the point.

The Guitar Player by Picasso

analytic cubism

Counting On Me

Why can't you ever back down?
Why can't you just shut your face?
Oh god the feelings I feel
Would get me thrown in a cage
You're the one who's always screaming at me
I'm the one that keeps your life so care free
What the fuck more do you want me to be?
Why must you do this to me?

Run away, I can't say
Lead the way, make them pay

Counting on me 
Always hoping I'll be
There for all of your problems
In turn you're never there for me
You suck the life out of me
You hate everything you see
I can't take this anymore
I always stay when I should leave

You see the pain in my face
While you keep putting me down
Inside the rage starts to build
You push me
I won't go down
You're the one who's always screaming at me
I'm the one that keeps your life so care free
What the fuck more do you want me to be?
Why must you do this to me?

Run away, I can't stay
Lead the way, make them pay

Counting, on me
Always hoping I'll be
There for all of your problems
in turn you're never there for me
You suck the life out of me
You hate everything you see
I can't take this anymore
I always stay when I should leave

Could this really be the day today?
Could this really make our problems go away?
I'm gonna have to doubt this time

Right
now!
I've taken all I can now
Right
Now!
You tore us all apart
Right
Now!
There is nothing you can do to stop me

Right now! x9

Counting, on me 
Always hoping I'll be
There for all of your problems
In turn you're never there for me
You suck the life out of me
You hate everything you see
I can't take this anymore
But always stay when I should leave 

Counting, on me 
Always hoping I'll be
There for all of your problems
in turn you're never there for me
You suck the life out of me
You hate everything you see
I can't take this anymore
I always stay when I should leave






by Korn

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.



by Wilfred Owen