Needles and Perfection

The marks on my arms
the needle in my hand.
The ugly stabs
that was on the tip.
I must hide away
I must fade somewhere.
The rules i must exceed
to be perfect.
In the eyes of others
i’m coated with make up
the long sleeves i wear
i hide no cuts.
The poison i inject
in my body
it is not drugs
that wears out my body
that flows in my veins
as it crease into my body.
I didn’t pass out from the needles
it was what i had become
it was the need to be perfect
It was the need from the needles.
I must say…
i crave needles and perfection.