Does she know the power of her words

Words long written and possibly forgotten

Does she know she changes lives daily

The lives she could never even imagine 

Does she know her black book is scripture

Passed on from woman to woman

Wondered the girl who once visited

A tattoo shop_

It was a simple message from within her

That she inscribed on the page of her book

“Write the book,” it said.

But that message wasn't meant

for her alone

It was meant for a girl

At a tattoo shop

As she waited for her appointment 

To etch the thoughts in her head

On her skin, in the hopes that

Her mind emptied of all those thoughts

Could quieten down come nighttime

When she was done

At a tattoo shop

That girl looked at all the magazines

The books, the pamphlets, the brochures

All scattered haphazardly

on the coffee table

At a tattoo shop

“What is that?” she said to herself

As she caught a glimpse of something

Amidst the sea of rainbow colors

A small paperback

Matte black cover with

white lettering

She opened it and read

At a tattoo shop

One line screamed at her

“Write the book,” it said

She couldn’t stop reading

She devoured the entire book that day

For she’d been hungry

Hungry for something to nourish 

Her soul, her mind, her heart

After she was done with the book

She began to write

And write she did for days on end

The words were always there

Waiting, patiently, for her

To come back to that

Which she always loved

She just needed a little nudging from 

A stranger, a black book

At a tattoo shop