The Semicolon Under My Skin: Surviving A Suicide Attempt.
The needle whirrs and purrs, and an image of a naked woman reading a book, her head exploding into fireworks slowly appears on my skin. The ceiling’s pattern looks beautiful from where I am, despite the intense brightness of the tattoo artist’s lights. This is my fourth tattoo—but unlike the first three, this one carries a deeper, sadder meaning.
