I was diagnosed at age eight.
That same day my childhood ended.
Ten shots each day.
I became insulin dependent.

“Are you sure you can eat that?”
That same night my life began.
“With all its sugar so pure?”
“With its icing so sweet?”
That something… They think I can’t eat?

“Have you checked your blood?”
That same day my childhood ended.
“When will it happen?”
Numbers have blackened.
I think I can manage.
The constant interrogations, the same questions being answered.

Held down by wired chains,
I was trapped inside an invisible box.
That same night my life began.
No one could hear my helpless breathing.
A machine connects to my side.
If only you knew how much it hurt.

That same day my childhood ended.
The blue bruises are covered by the sleeves of my shirt.
My sweet blood is only killing.
The bullet holes in my fingers burn.
A battle with no finishing.
A stolen world of sudden violence.
Everyone’s equivalent diminishes,
Everyone falls silent.

“You don’t look too fat.”
That same night my life began.
“Did you eat too much sugar?”
“It’s a chronic illness,” I’d repeat again.
It didn’t come like that.
My pancreas was attacked.

“Are you sure you can do that?”
That same day my childhood ended.
They’re diminishing my human capabilities.
I will not surrender.
I don’t have a limited ability.
I keep my head held high, blocking their ignorance.

And don’t forget my mom and dad.
They were the ones who had to pierce the needles through my skin.
They had to watch me suffer.
They couldn't fix their baby’s pain
They saw the brightness in my eyes turn grey.
Their sleepless nights they spent standing by my side.
“There will be a cure one day,”
Trying to cut me from those wired chains that will tie me down for life.

That same day my childhood ended.
That same night my life began.
The war between my blood and thorns.
That same second I became who I am.