More dreams
Like clockwork, these odd dreams.
This time I had a huge revolver tattooed on my right leg, an inked weapon on a bed of swirling patterns. I was trying to get it removed, but the metallic silver ink wouldn't lift. "The color's too saturated," the guy with the laser said, "You're better off leaving it." Only I kept saying it hurt to have it there, that it hurt and I couldn't stand to see it. The crowd that somehow gathered in the tiny clinic room said in unison, "It will hurt more to remove it."
This time I had a huge revolver tattooed on my right leg, an inked weapon on a bed of swirling patterns. I was trying to get it removed, but the metallic silver ink wouldn't lift. "The color's too saturated," the guy with the laser said, "You're better off leaving it." Only I kept saying it hurt to have it there, that it hurt and I couldn't stand to see it. The crowd that somehow gathered in the tiny clinic room said in unison, "It will hurt more to remove it."