I’m sitting at the doctor’s

with my sleeve rolled up

He gets out a syringe

with a needle ontop

A lady walks in

she sits down with her son

She looks so old;

He looks so young

She glances at me

as the doctor punctures skin

Blood is slurped away

but she’s still glancing

She’s staring at the marks

the long black lines

She’s staring at the marks

I always try to hide

She’s staring at the marks

That I give myself sometimes

She looks away quickly

but not quickly enough

All over her face

I can see loads of stuff

Disdain and Disgust

Disappointment and Dissaproval

She doesn’t know the full story

But she thinks I’m inhuman