I'm perfectly happy with my fish,
Why must you squish my wish?
I'm perfectly content with my switch,
Why can't you let me be your snitch?

I'm perfectly okay with my stitches.
Why must you throw my heart to the ditches?
I'm perfectly fine with my ambitions
Why can't you calm down your suspicions?

I think I don't mind my ink smidges
Why are you still trashing the syringes?
I'm not okay with your judgements
Where have you hidden my pigments?

I loathe the way you're still in my head.
I hate how you stand, speak and I bled.
I'm perfectly content with my switch.
Why can't you let me be your

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Scarlatan, in the year 1002 AF.