Stained
Where the hell am I, for God's sake how did I get here, what have I done to deserve this un-humane madness. I knew what I was doing, I had complete control of myself. It wasn't the alcohol nor be it the pills that were prescribed to me for anxiety. It was me in a nutshell, because that's who I am and that's who I will always be. I knew exactly what I was doing, when I was doing it, and why I was doing what I had done. It was a simple little piece of art that fit me to a tee. This little but meaningful tattoo of a heart showed others who I was and that it was meant for others to give them hope in life. That's all it stood for and all it was meant for. So why ask I, have I been snatched from my home like a spider from its web on your wall and thrown into this hellhole like the spider in a jar and tortured by the likes of a rulers' law. The ink that I have stained permanently on my left forearm for others to see and feel comfort will always be a part of me, like it or not you damn foolish bigot. For heaven's sake...let me out of this hellhole Satin.
the ink on my arm
the devil didn't like it
it's for heaven's sake
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