Love : |luv| - n
1. an intense affection for another person based on personal or familial ties 2. the deep tenderness, affection, and concern felt for a person with whom one has a relationship
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No one knows when it started or why it did. They just appeared one day and we didn't question them. Well that was until they started changing.
Marks. They started from our wrist and traveled up our arm depending on the amount of times. The amount of times we fell in love.
Black little tally marks lined peoples wrist, every new loved showed up as a reminder of the heartbreak. Of the lies and unrequited feelings. Little memories forever left on our skin as ugly reminders of the good times, the bad times and all in between.
They never left only changed, black to red. The black tally mark would turn red if your feelings were shared with that person, and it would scar if they passed. Passed away that is.
I know people with hundreds of marks lining their arms and chest. Not always just black. Sometimes the odd red one makes an appearance or the subtle fleshy line. The hopeless romantics wore their excessive marks with pride whereas the desperate fragile lovers hid in shame from all their past mistakes.
There were a few though, the few who had none. The ones who didn't or refused to love. The ones who didn't have time or just couldn't simply let someone else in. They are called the markless.
I'm now 22 and I'm still a markless.
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Status:
In the making
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Authors Note:
Hiya! I'm back again with yet another idea. Thank you Tumblr for the inspiration since I have no original ideas of my own.
The tumblr user - @ traumacomplex First came up with the idea so give them some love :)
Without further ado welcome to this crappy adaptation of their idea :)
