Every week, I face the sting,
A quiet ritual, a small, sharp thing.
A little pinch, a moment's burn,
But each shot reminds me, I'll never turn.
It's not just medicine in my veins,
It's strength, it's hope, it's breaking chains.
Each drop, a promise to be who I am,
A commitment to myself, to understand.
The world may ask why I endure this pain,
But they don't know the power in my veins.
For every needle, every little scar,
Brings me closer to who I truly are.
It's not easy, it's not always kind,
But I'm not afraid to leave the past behind.
With every shot, with every rise,
I become more me, shedding disguise.
I'll give myself this gift each day,
Until I've found my rightful way.
For it's not just a shot in the skin,
It's the fuel that lets my journey begin.