Painted Lines

With this black Ink
This needle I'll sink
To write my story
In its small and broken glory

Images rear
And buzzing I hear
As I take the scratch
And form my patch

Its skin no more
But a canvas to draw
With a needle instead
Its a small tear I shed

The price is low
For the seed I sow
A seed that stayed
As my skin is raised

These painted lines
Are my sun that shines
I might regret their place
But not until my heart slows pace