is really not between you or me
its etched on my skin
i know because i felt every little sting
very similar to another thing i know
little pricking needles
pain like a cat scratch
so they say
but i am no medal holding winner
so why did i even bother stamping myself
well...
yes i want the world to know
That when i show up to a place, all quiet and shy
you will see the tag and know automatically what to do
Please i prefer gummie bears to glucose tablets
well..
Why would i be embarrassed about being diabetic anyway?
Yes i may hate it, but don't you dare say anything mean to it
Diabetes is a lot like me, out of control, fickle, moody and funny
Sometimes its like a angst teen
it hates the world, all people in it, and itself
has no problem with destruction, while it wills a bliss full state.Branded by this life, goth decor and lonely poetry
My outside reflects my inside now in bright black lines
well...
Do i want sympathy? Only for a second
Roll your eyes if you must, this is my deal not yours
My body, my rules, don't roll your eyes at me
My Dead pancreas expresses its sorrow through my ink
The tiny vibrating tattoo machine draws my strength
i don't need your bleeding heart, i'm just fine
well...
It's to late now, what's done is done
I'm not a winner, I'm not a whiner, nor do i brag
My ink shows a side of myself that i like to consider
both morbid, comical, and freeing.
Free to laugh, free to connect over spilled blood,
and free to fight for normal life
well...
I went through the pain, scabbed up and flaked
What cure? i say, insulin is the game, can't you see it in my skin?
It's like i told the tattoo guy when i asked him to draw a sweet in the design...
"would you seriously deny me cupcakes"
he shakes his head at me, but smiles anyway
kudos to me for the best tattoo idea of the day
(no i won't be showing my tattoo, for personal reasons)
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