Being Diabetic

never asked for this to happen
it just did
people always sitting an laughing
clueless to see the disease that's eaten at me since i was a kid

soulless gazes draw down upon me
sneers of hate and distaste
silence drowns as i hear their whispered words
as people continue to walk past me

new day, new place, same thing repeated daily
lift shirt to find a place
take out alcohol swab to prepare injection site
plunge the needle deep within me
the contents inside slowly rejuvenate me

I'm looking down, not from the burden of their gazes
but the pain from the burning of clenched muscles
empty taste fills my mouth
the smell of alcohol begins to fade away

scar tissue is the only evidence left of my use
never showing people my years of abuse
everyone thinks I'm so pathetic
no one ever asks me if I'm diabetic.