The girl with no arms

Welcome! Let me tell you a bit about myself, first off Hi my name is Korrin. It's not pronounced the way it's spelt, I have close friends who still mess up saying it correctly it's kinda funny. So just skip over the name because it doesn't really matter anyways. My hair color and my style is constantly changing, as you can see I have an addiction to getting ink! In total I have 25 pieces on my body and each tell their own little story. My favorite times to get ink done is when my heart hurts and is shattered into a zillion tiny pieces. If I'm too feel pain I better damn well get something good out of it wouldn't you agree? Sadly my entire life has been so full of pain, I just try to block my trauma out. It doesn't work. So can you take a wild guess what age I was when I got my first tatty? 13... Can you possibly try to guess what the hell I decided to get? A friggin pot leaf....oops!!! So until I was 18 years old and could find someone to cover it up....I was known as the girl with the pot leaf on her back. Honestly there where so many times I completely forgot I had it there...until I would get some pretty judgemental stares. When I went into the foster system for the last time at age 13 I turned into this wild child. Surprisingly it honestly saved my life, and they let me express myself freely to a point. They let me color my hair, and let me play with makeup (remember those mask days? HAHA) Though I thought I was going to be planning my own funeral once I went home and they discovered what stupid thing I had done. At the end of the day I finally got it covered with a rose and tribal art. I can still see hints of that darn leaf as the red ink fades over the years, but it's a reminder of my past so I've learnt to accept it. Now to explain my favorite piece and how the girl on my arm is.... you guessed it...me!

One day I was scrolling through kijiji and stumbled on this add for a free tattoo...I was baffled so I had to ask him if it was actually true and not just a typo...SCORE! He was an apprentice just starting out, he needed to practise but tips are always appreciated. Still my favorite artist to this day, anyways... the art I had picked out for my piece is a tribal scorpion on my foot with the tail wrapping around my ankle bone. Oh my goodness let me tell you.... the ankle bone felt like a zillion needles stabbing me in the eye. I stopped paying attention to how my body was reacting to the pain that I ended up kicking him right in the face! If he hadn't have spoken up about me not liking those few strokes of the gun I never would have known. I was too busy looking in the air thinking of topics to talk about. At the time I was getting this piece done I was going through a huge breakup. It was hard for me to open up, but he eventually got me too. I had caught the father of my child messing about with my best friend/foster sister. I was heart broken beyond belief, the day after my 19th birthday with a 3 month old newborn. I told him because that betrayal was so deep I will never open my heart the same again. To be betrayed by the two people you love the most (besides your child obviously) and at a time where there is supposed to be celebrating not crying. That changed me forever inside, I still tear up when I speak about it. I came from an abusive home growing up with a bi-polar mother. So you can understand why I was completely crushed from losing the family I created. I gave my son his fathers name before being married, I believed we where going to have more kids together... he didn't even sign the birth certificate. Just shows how much thought me and my son where given...especially our son. I believed my so called sister was trustworthy.... but you know what it's dangerous to tell another woman the size of your mans package. Sadly it didn't matter that we grew up together in a home....even ran away from our foster home. I was 13 and she was 15, we where scared of being seperated...ended up hitch hiking for 3 days. Only reason we got caught was because she called her grandma. None of that mattered to her....just my baby dads package. Believe me when I say I tried so hard to forgive both of them and move on. It wasn't possible, they both didn't feel bad one bit. If they did he wouldn't be showing up to her place at 4 am (surprise he didn't know I was there!) and her looking like a deer caught in headlights. I lost everything including my mind. I lost my family, I lost my home my Papa signed for me right before he passed away. I cant describe how alone and destroyed I felt. Here I was, a baby myself having a baby and being completely alone. The relationship got so bad CPS stepped in and gave me a choice. Him or my baby... so there I was with an 8 month old baby in a woman's shelter. It should have been him stuck in the homeless shelter, but I still loved and cared for him. I knew he wouldn't survive out in the city on his own, and I was afraid for him. I feel stupid these days about how I allowed me and my son to suffer for someone who couldn't give a damn.

So that's why her eyes are filled with pain and sorrow, she locked her heart and then cut off her arms. Why you ask? How do I unlock my broken heart if I have no arms to turn my key. A broken heart can't stay locked up for too long eventually you go crazy or cold...or both. So now that I'm older and have experienced more heartbreak, I have given thought to get her arms tattooed in a pile underneath her...maybe someone will finally show some kindness and help put her back together.