It was an itch you couldn't reach
and a pain you couldn't make go away,
frustration nearly tearing at your sides and
webbing exhuastion into your eyes,
and they fell like bombs and left scars that
couldn't be healed by a simple pinch
of vicodin or sense of closure,
and it suffocated the logic you made
yourself believe, swirling thoughts and time
and the ultimate revelations that you
tried and fought so hard to block out of
your mind, and being blind to reality
made your own ignorance
be able to breathe and taste and feel,
until the last of your senses were
obscured by the stress of finding out
that life isn't always full of smiles and laughter,
and the painted designs upon your arms
remind you of it